Something that Ive been struggling to deal with regarding depression is the feeling that I have to STOP talking about it or else people will stop listening. People get it into their head that Im crying wolf, and just kind of tune me out, or unfriend me. From my perspective, the wolf is always there, outside, waiting for me. On a good day, its sunny and theres no wolf to be seen, so Im not at all worried. But then there are cloudy days, where I see a shadow and I start to get nervous about the wolf. I tell my friends that I saw a creepy shadow and theyre like, its probably nothing, dont worry about it. And then night falls, and Im safe inside, and I hear the wolf howl in the distance, or scratch the door, or even growl a little, and I tell people, Im scared. Theres a wolf outside and its driving me insane knowing that Im just one unlocked door away from having the wolf eat me. People tell me, wow, that sounds really awful, sorry youre dealing with that. But for a long time, the wolf is just there, and Im stuck inside, scared to leave or do anything, and I keep telling my friends, the wolf is right there, and its maddening, and I dont know what to do. People tell me, the wolf again? Are you sure theres even a wolf and youre not just making this up? And after a few more nights like this, constantly living in fear, and being kept awake by the sounds, I ask my friends to keep me company. Maybe I am just hearing things, but itd be nice to have someone around to help calm me down. But people say, I was just over there, and I didnt see any wolf. Stop asking me to hang out. Stop making up stories about this wolf just to get me over to your house. And what am I to do? Because people have made it painfully obvious that they either dont believe me or they dont have time to reassure me constantly, I have to keep quiet. Because eventually, the wolf breaks into through a broken window, and I am lying there bleeding and in pain, and I have to call for help. People rush to my aid, and see that, yes, there was a wolf, and they help bandage me up, and stick around and bring me soup and help me feel comfortable in my own home, where I was just attacked. But then they go their way. The wolf wasnt killed, or even frightened off by people coming. The wolf decided to spare my life for some unkind reason, and Im left in my house bandaged and alone. And then I hear the growls outside, and I know the wolf is still there. But, I dare not tell my friends because they were just here and they never saw the wolf. They helped me and did their friendly duty and then went off to their own lives. I cant ask them for help again because they dont have the time. Nobody wants to just sit around my house making sure the wolf gets in. And meanwhile, Im still stuck inside, knowing I might get hurt at any moment, but have to hold my tongue or people might not come when its really important. --- And this is exactly the kind of thing I have to think about anytime I ask for help. Its been only a month and a half since I called on all my friends to desperately help me fulfill a responsibility that I couldnt do myself. I figure I can call people telling them the wolf is inside maybe once every three months or more, and until then I feel like I just need to hold everything inside because nobody has the time or the energy to listen to me. I can extend the metaphor with people unhelpfully telling me to put up fences, or keep track of patterns in the wolfs comings and goings, but whats the point. This is my life, and its not fun.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Nov 2014 03:47:42 +0000
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