Wishing, But Not Hearing

This long quote.  It’s a thank you to someone for their endurance under depression.  It captures the place well.

I suffered in dysphoria for 50 years, and one of its horrible side effects was depression.  Staying alive was a pretty big achievement. And yet there are people in my life who communicate something to me very different than this quote…or just don’t speak at all.

The words spoken are awful to read (at least I am spared them being given face to face)…but the silence is the worst.  Looming, frozen, hot hell…where there used to be the core and comfort of my heart.

If you know someone in your life who wrestles with despair, and gets up alive everyday?  Say something like the below to them…it will mean the world.

“I am so unbelievably proud of you. Every day you get out of bed even though all you want to do is stay under the covers. Every day you take a shower, you get dressed, you put food in your body, and you leave the safety of your home for the chaos of this world.To me that’s an act of profound bravery. You are choosing to live and try despite your tiredness, hopelessness, and brokenness. You cling to the light instead of the dark. You leave your comfort zone every day for the unknown.

I’m proud of you. I hope you are proud of you. I hope you know how those seemingly little acts of courage are really the greatest moments of bravery. I hope that you will continue to rise each day and live your life.

Thank you for living. Thank you for staying. Thank you for fighting. Thank you for trying. Thank you for being in this world with me. Thank you for holding on when you want to let go. Thank you for trusting in tomorrow.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

I am so proud of you. These words cannot explain the depths of gratefulness I feel for your life. I pray that you would always rise just as the sun does every morning in the blue sky.

With a whole lot of love,



2 thoughts on “Wishing, But Not Hearing

  1. This may not be the intention of this post, however I must address Becca. Dear Becca, I am proud of you for asking others to limit attacking behavior that triggers PTSD symptoms. When you stand your ground and yell out powerful words of cease and desist. In the terrifying moments when the yelling didn’t stop it in time and the world begins to shake and spin and sour, I am proud of you for recognizing when you should be afraid of yourself and your own behavior. Last weekend, when all you wanted to do was be strong and save face, you put all the danger in a plastic bag and gave to Homeslice to carry in. It was handled with grace and sane behavior so as to not allow the anxiety contagion to get on him. I am proud of you for making it known to the aggressor just how close to the edge you’d gone. I am proud of you for your commitment to yourself and those who love you, like Charissa, to share the weakness and blackness that was invalidated and you were taught to hide. You’ve no place in your life for shame of stigma. Rather you admit your quirks and your need for the therapist. This week when she asked you the normal questions including self harm behaviors? suicidal thoughts? you answered honestly and said yes. However, by the day you were in her office the thoughts were gone. Sure, it was the first time in a year you’d felt that bad. Except, you did not judge yourself and make the spiral worth. There was no self hatred there. No criticism. Awareness. Acceptance. Gratitude for God. Becca, I’m proud of you for sharing this.

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