a Scarlet D

It’s been quite a few months. I was able to count the life changes on one hand. Each finger represented a different change, any one of which would be major. A new job. A new home. Leaving a long term relationship. A waning Major Depressive Episode. A handful of changes any one of which would cause serious stress for even a well balanced person. Six months ago I was in a horrible place, and could dream of today, but never believe it could be real.

And here I am, on the other side. The anxiety, gone. The depression, as gone as it will ever be. (It’s always been there, it will always be there, and it will always come back to find me.) Work is hard. But in a satisfying way, challenges and trials combined with wins, learnings, and success. The new place is fitted out, comfortable and feeling like my own. My social life is slowly growing, with old friends and new helping me to fill me free time.

There are some surprises. Apparently I am social. I prefer working in the office to working remotely (we’re hybrid) because I want the interactions. I am extroverted enough that I chat with people in the elevator, usually about their dogs. Everyone here seems to have a dog. It’s nice. I will have short conversations with clerks or wait staff or other customers in shops. It feels good to connect with other people. To communicate. In my “previous life” I would avoid contact with strangers, but now I find it amusing and fun and interesting. The apartment complex I’m in has a social engagement couple, and they host events once a month or so. I’ve met many of my neighbors at these events by speaking up and introducing myself. Making idle chit-chat that often turns into conversations.

Tonight there was a 4th of July pre-holiday event. After work I went for a workout (another “not old me” activity), came back to my apartment and showered then watched fail videos until ten minutes after the event start time. Nobody wants to be first to an event. Although I tend to go early and the hosting couple are so warm and inviting it doesn’t feel awkward. Tonight I did my usual hellos and ended up talking to a young couple who were friends of the hosts, and had their own interesting stories to tell. Wandering a bit I tried a group that all knew one another, not a great fit. Another group I didn’t think would be welcoming but were very interesting and nice in their own way. And so on. Making new friends I may see by the mailboxes, in the (beautiful and enormous) lobby, and having a nice time.

Near the end of the evening I was chatting with someone who pointed out that we had the same tattoo. She had one on her ankle that matched mine on my wrist. The project semicolon tat. She asked if mine was for me, which was a question I’d not been asked before. So I told her a little bit about me. And she hinted about her own journey. Which of course opened my floodgates, and I told her about so much of my journey. It was another great interaction. I asked about her journey (politely, not wanting to push for more than she was willing to share) but she did tell me quite a bit about her story. It was really great being able to trade stories and talk about where we had been, and a bit about where we were now. She said something that hinted at the fact that things were good, but still took work to maintain. I totally understand that. While I’m in a great place right now, it’s not without a crap ton of work, discipline, and using my tools to be my “most resourced self” as DBT describes. But the work is so very much worth it. Anyway, it was that hint that stuck with me. After the event was over and I was back home looking over this blog, I spent some time reflecting on where I’ve been and where I am. This came from the fact that I shared this blog with her and talked about how open I was about my whole deal.

In looking back and reading some of my entries here and there, I’m thinking a lot about what I’ve been through, how it’s affected others, and how much those around me have supported me. I give myself credit for my progress, but I also appreciate my care team, family, and friends for their support. Be it going to to brunch with me, or making me PB&J sandwiches after my ECT sessions, or giving me pep talks when I visit far flung relatives, I don’t think anyone can truly know how much I appreciate that support. And when I talk to someone who has seen similar struggles, be it at an event or a penpal, or someone who shares their difficulties after I’ve told my story, it makes me appreciate where I am, and also appreciate where other people are, for better or for worse. Em, Pat, Ben, Brian, Scott, Peter, and everyone else – I wish I could impart some magical phrase that would make it all right.

I didn’t have a lot of people I could reach out to. I was alone and lonely with many of my feelings. So I want to help in any way I can. To be the support I missed beyond my family and friends.

In the end all I can do is say “I see you” and offer to help in any way possible. And to the girl I met tonight who has her own challenges, hopefully this blog will be interesting and helpful. And to all of you, please reach out to me if you have a bad day. Or a good day. Or questions. Or hard problems. Or hopes. I don’t know if I can help. The least I can do is hear you. But please.

The usual disclaimers and not giving a shit about grammar and spelling. Mentally stable does not solve literary sloppiness.