The Nervous Breakdown Chronicles: Moving On
The seconds ticked by, each yawning into the next as though time had truly decided that now it was appropriate to take a break and stand-still. I sat shaking like a Chihuahua at my computer, hoping I’d be able to find that I had some miracle answer; some cure, something to stave off the emptiness gnawing through my gut.
I’d considered the ER, but The Guy (now formerly) On My Couch had my car and I’d asked him to take me, in the vain hopes that the ER staff could change my anti-depressant (not so I could get locked in a padded room – I had no “plans” for a suicide*) or offer me something – anything – to help out, considering my doctor’s office had turned into something out of Oregon Trail – no running water, phone lines, or electricity.
He told me that he could not, in fact, take me to the ER, but that he could drop me off, if I so chose. If there’s anything worse than the thought of sobbing alone in an ER room (perhaps sobbing in the middle of a busy restaurant?), I’m not sure what it is. I said a quick, “thanks but no thanks,” and continued my weeping. I figured the black eyes this would cause would be a pretty awesome fashion statement.
When none appeared, I decided that some trashy television might be the answer. I grabbed my comfort object, my blankie, and my pillows and curled myself up into my wee nest on the couch. From the “Shows You Might (Not) Like” on the Netflix queue, I selected the one show I’d always been curious about – Intervention – and began to watch it.
Pro-Tip: while feeling semi-suicidal and bone-crushingly depressed, do NOT watch Intervention. While it may feel good to say, “wow, I’m glad I’m not THAT person,” when the Intervention fails and the person falls back into their old ways, you’re not left with a particularly positive outlook.
I ended the second episode even more depressed than when I’d begun. My mother had taken the kids for a bit that afternoon, after I called hysterically, begging her to help me.
So by the time I turned off the episode of Intervention, The Guy on my Couch, and my very best friend on the planet had come home from work.
“Hi,” he called to the eerily quiet house.
“I’m out here,” I called back.
He came into the room and sat next to my feet at the edge of the couch, where he’d sat so many nights, watching TV with me. He gave me a hug and I cried a little onto his clean work shirt, which smelled strongly of the outside.
“Sorry I just boogered on you,” I said, a little sheepishly. Having him there made things a little better for me – I was no longer alone.
“S’okay,” he said, “How’s it going?”
(cue weeping because Lord knows, the moment someone inquires after my well-being, my response is to cry like an asshole)
“N-n-n-not so good,” I said. “But I’m going to my doctor tomorrow and the therapist on Thursday. I’m working on getting better – making the right steps.”
“Good,” he replied, a little uncomfortably. “So, I’m going to need to talk to you or Dave about the logistics of moving out.”
“Talk to Dave,” I replied, the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I can barely figure out if I have to pee or not.”
I’d known, to be fair, that The Guy (now formerly) On My Couch was planning to move – he’d spent the weekend checking out places to move, I’d just assumed it was at a *waves hand* far off time way in the future. So when he said this, I expected that he meant a *waves hand* far off time way in the future.
Wrong assumption.
A couple of minutes later, I asked him, “When are you moving?” assuming his answer would be a *waves hand* far off time way in the future.
“Tonight,” he replied, suddenly interested in staring his shoes.
My jaw dropped as I did my best trout impression, “TONIGHT?”
I couldn’t fathom it – I understood the motivations behind his departure (probably more than anyone else) but the timing was atrocious. I did the only thing a non-sane person could do, I began to scream at him. Appropriate? No. Out of character? Yes.
The children arrived home as I sat on my couch, sobbing and snorting into my snot-filled Kleenex like some overgrown toddler: my very best friend was leaving when I needed him the most. The kids came home and piled onto the two of us (no easy feat, considering we were on separate ends of a couch) like they did to us every day. I hugged them and sent them off to the other room to put on some cartoons with a potentially annoying lead character (which, let’s face it, is all of them).
The surge of anger died down as I hugged my best friend in the world, one of the few people who really knew me, and said, “Happy Trails.”
He grabbed his things, waved a sad goodbye to me, his face drawn and wan, and walked out of the door, ready to face his new life.
The sobs wracked through my body as though my heart were breaking. Which, I suppose, it was.
This time, all three of my children bounded into the room, hands outstretched and overflowing with Band-Aids and (oddly) some fish stickers. I thanked them as they covered all visible parts of my body, hugging them close enough that I could feel their tiny heartbeats.
And for one moment – one single moment – my heart felt as though it hadn’t just shattered.
*A big part of suicide is The Plan – if one has a plan as to how they intend to suicide, they are considered more of a risk for actually going through with the attempt. Thanks for the info, Nursing School!
I love you so hard! I’m always here, even though I don’t fall into the BFF category.
Thanks, love.
Well, you already know what I think of the Guy formerly on your couch so I will just you more hugs and stripper kisses.
Male or female strippers?
Does it matter which??
I don’t know what to say other than I wish I could say I can’t relate, but I can. 🙁 Hang in there, girly.
It’s hard. It’s so, so hard.
*hugs* I’ll come live on your couch for a while if that will help…
Haha! Sounds awesome.
Dear Aunt Becky,
A couple of weeks ago I had to take my sweet old cat to the vet. He was sick, old, not eating, etc. My husband was supposed to meet me there so we could all be together for the last goodbye. He was late & the office was getting ready to close, and they were mobbed. I sat down by the door holding on to poor old skinny Sammy the cat and waited my turn. I was pretty proud of myself for holding it together, I hadn’t cried yet. A woman glanced over at me and then approached me. She only asked me how old my cat was, but apparently those are the words that open the floodgates. As I bawled my eyes out, she sat next to me and hugged me like I’ve never been hugged before. She was an angel. She sat and held my hand until my husband arrived & then hugged me again. I will never forget her and her kindness. I tell you that story to let you know that if I saw you now or tomorrow or whenever, I would be that person for you. I hope you can feel the ginormous cat lady hug from here, cause I’m sending it right now.
Love,
JodieGirl
It’s amazing when we see how kind those who do not know us are.
{{{Aunt Becky}}}
oh AB. i am so sorry. and sending hugs and loves. for everything. and for nothing. for your heart breaking. and for you no longer having a guy on your couch. for band aids and fish stickers. (which is a tad odd). if i could hug you i would. you are amazing as rainbows. and truly a gift to and for so many people. hoping you can feel all those gifts heading back your way.
I’m not thinking very nice things about the guy (formerly) on your couch, or your husband for that matter.
I’m sorry that the people who should be the closest to you weren’t there for you like they should have been (which is how I’m perceiving the situation–maybe I’m way off).
Just know that your pranksters would never leave you home alone (while taking your car!) during one of your darkest times. We’d take the day off for you.
No, you read that all right. It’s the pattern of my life. It’s pathetic, but true.
God damn it, depression is a bitch. A stupid, worthless no good bitch for attacking you like this. I’m so sorry you got stuck in that dark place…hopefully a few more rays of sunshine will sneak in soon.
The guy (formerly) on the couch sounds like he needs a good swift kick in the ass. I’m sending (((hugs))) & *love* & ~ positive energy ~ your way.
You’re making me laugh – thanks, dude.
All I gots is hugs. Lots and lots of ’em.
This sucks hind tit in the worst goddamn way ever and I’m so sorry. I’d love to offer you some lame ass platitude like, “that which does not kill us only makes ys stronger” but whenever someone says that to me it makes me want to punch a baby and I know how much you love your kids.
So I’m just going to send virtual hugs and love your way and hoe it helps.
*hope not hoe…unless you’d prefer a hoe…
Hi, I’ve never posted but your willing ability to share made me…I recently recovered from a episode in my life. Went through the therapy, group, and finding the right pill train. It fucking blowes but I find as time passes, I am getting to know and love myself again. Not kittens and unicorn farts, it gets better….sending the energy of zee universe your way. Keep taking care of yourself!
All my love, Aunt Becky. Sending all the hugs I have.
fish stickers. kids come up with the damnedest stuff. I love you, AB!
AB, I wish I had some super awesome words of encouragement that would be just the thing you need to hear so that you could take depression and leave its annoying ass on the curb where it belongs. Unfortunately, I’ve got nada. I’m not good with words in these situations. What I do offer to you is a big huge hug and an offer to go kick someone’s ass, doesn’t have to be someone you know. If it makes you smirk and laugh “ha, ha bitch” , then my work is partially done. Please take comfort in the fact that so many of us love you and will help in any way, you just need to call.
You already know how much I love you, and just know I’m doing everything I can to come be the person on your couch for a while – just over a month away now!! And I’m more than happy to punch a few people in the crotch while I’m there – if needed.
I kind of think I need to see pictures of this special blankie.
I’m sorry you are going through all this shit, Aunt Becky. It’s not fair, and it sucks, and I wish there was some magic wand that could be waved and make it all better. My husband suffers from severe depression & anxiety, and it takes such a toll on him, and our relationship, and the entire family. Sending you all my thoughts and hugs and prayers, don’t give up, okay? Depression lies.
Hi AB,
I’ve been a long time lurker here and at band back together… though I’ve never, ever commented. (I’m a bit scared, so be nice people!!)
However this post needs a comment. And hugs. (And some people who’s names I won’t mention maybe need a kick up the side of the head, but we’ll leave that one alone…)
It’s so strange as I know I (and many others) look up to you as a very strong and amazing woman, so it’s really hard to hear of your never ending struggles. I find so much strength in your words, it’s weird to know that the words you write can come from such pain.
I know you know this already – but the sun absolutely, positively, will definitely come out again. IT always does (It’s science, y’know!) Sometimes it takes a very long time to come out, because sometimes you’re just buried too deep in the darkness…. but you’ll be sunbaking sooner than you think.
It hurts my heart (and my HEAD) to hear that the people you need most aren’t able to be there to support you – but I’m sure there are reasons that we can’t understand. Don’t forget that they DO love you, even if they’ve said and done things that can’t be un-done.
And you’ve always got your pranksters. I bet there’s dozens, maybe more, fellow lurkers like me who are sending you some extra fish stickers with their minds like I am now.
You’re so often so strong for all of us, so lean on your internet support crew now – it’s your turn to fall outta the tree – but never fear! We’re lowering the rope ladder right now – can you see it, climb on up lady – we’re keepin’ a spot spare, just for you!
TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF! Eat as often as you can… and shower – man that makes you feel better even though it’s sometimes the hardest thing on Earth to do! Go buy a loaf of bread from the corner shop – sometimes just realizing that the world is still spinning helps me so much.
But most of all… Know that you are so, so, so very loved.
Depression sucks donkey balls. Sending you virtual hugs and sloppy kisses. You are loved. So very much.
You can do this Aunt Becky! You’ve fought this damn demon bitch depression before……and I know that you will swiftly crotchkick it to the curb. Sending you light and love.
The guy (formerly) on your couch deserves a rusty pitchfork to the nuts. *nods*
i don’t like this, aunt motherfucking becky. i don’t like this one bit and i don’t know what’s going on. i just know i love you like a fat girl loves broccoli* and i want to hug you and cuddle you and show you pictures of my kitties (which i may or may not start tweeting at you any moment). and i would share my tarzipan with you if i could.
*i’m a fat girl and i REALLY FUCKING LOVE BROCCOLI.
(((hugs hugs hugs)))
Jesus. I just got caught up and though I know I suck when it comes to commenting, I still love you and if you need someone to drive you to the fucking ER, email me. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE? I hope you are getting some love & hugs from somewhere, in addition to the bandaids and fish stickers.
Yep, I suck at commenting too! So I’ll just be honest…Sorry for what you’re going through. It fucking sucks!!! Big hugs for you, Becky <3 <3
Oh Darling little Becky.
I’m glad you have your mom, and your therapist, and your friends around. Remember that so many people love you, and try to remember that you love yourself too. It will pass. Somehow, it will pass, and you will come out of this, and be yourself again, and a little stronger.
{{{{{hugs}}}}}
Wow, Becky. You are one of the greatest people I know. OK, so TECHNICALLY I don’t actually know you, but I feel like I do since I’ve been keeping up on your blog. I’m sorry that things are sucking so badly right now for you and that the people you would think would be there aren’t–but you know who is here for you?? Your Pranksters! And your amazing children with their little hugs and fish stickers. Because who doesn’t get a little happier when they are covered in fish stickers?? I hope things get better for you soon.
Sending love and hugs from Michigan your way.
Aunt Becky,
I know how you are feeling right now. That heavy cloak of lead has been on me as well lately. I honestly think there is something in the air. Please know I am curled up next to you on the comfy couch with our blankies and pillows crying with you. You are NOT ALONE! I have to keep telling myself it will get better so I am telling you too, it will get better! Depression is a lying bag of snake snot! Sending you lots of hugs!
I am sorry Becky you are feeling so low. I wish I could do something for you to not hurt. It sucks that there is no quick fix but I know that you will feel better. You took the right steps to get out of this place. A little bit of patience and a few visits to the doctor and you will be back on track. It’s not out of the blue, it seems that you have a lot to talk about, getting everything out with the doctor will give you the strength to carry on and see clearer. And btw I know you wouldn’t have walked on a friend!! because you are strong and caring!
Oh Aunt Becky. I just know that you will come out of this into a good place. We all love you so. There have been many days that your words have cheered me up when I had hit rock bottom. Love you with extra loves.
I believe in YOU, Becky.
You’ve got this. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just know. Nobody said it had to be pretty. And it won’t be. But you’ve got this.
If you need someone to random-email, you’ve got my address. You know I’m all about The Email, especially when I’ve got nothing useful to say.
My husband says that I always want to “fix people and their lives.” I love your blog and your awesome personality. You are an amazing, witty writer. I went through a bout of depression in college and know how dark everything can seem. I would recommend going to a kickboxing class when you’re up to it. I have always been clumsy, but hitting and kicking a bag is just an amazing feeling and bonus, it gives you those amazing endorphins. I love to imagine the bag as my assh*le boss, my clueless, obnoxious mother-in-law, and oftentimes my husband when he’s on my last nerve!
I’m thinking good thoughts for you.
Whoa, wait- you lent him your CAR and he wouldn’t GIVE YOU A RIDE in an EMERGENCY?!?! What. The fuck.
Anger is easier to deal with than the crushing sadness of this shit, so I’m gonna be pissed right now. And AB? You fucking rock. You’ve helped me and friends of mine and friends-of-friends and that’s your legacy, okay? You fucking rock and you’re never alone. I’ll bet you there is always at the very least one person thinking about you every moment of every day.
Thinking of you.
Everyone is sorta wanting to kick Guy on Couch >-< I don't think that's really fair since we don't know his versions of events. That being said, there really is nothing worse than being dropped off at the ER alone, it's a crappy feeling and I'm not sure why your best friend in the world would ever think otherwise. I am not exactly sure why both him and Dave are leaving you floundering alone but you do have a lot of people who want you to know how much we do care 🙂 If I lived in Chicago and had my own couch, I'd let you live with me until you figured things out but I live in Idaho and am pretty unhappy with my own relationship and want to move out too. I'm always online though if you ever need to talk to someone and your main peeps aren't available.
I did allow him to read this post to ensure that I got it down right – the very last thing I’m interested in is causing another harm.