A simple life. Is that possible? I don’t ask for much, never have. I’m shy and quiet. My brother once remarked that I don’t talk very much. I think it’s because I spend too much time in my head. When I first met my dear friend I used to get so nervous to open up to him. Either I called him or he called me, I can’t remember, but I was literally shaking. It was incredibly hard for me to share my struggles as I had kept them hidden for so long. My love affair w alcohol was all too apparent. But the state of my mind I kept quiet.
For a while I attended a depression in sobriety meeting. It was a safe place to be real w mental health issues. This is where I met my dear friend. It’s odd but I hit a meeting that I don’t normally attend and I sat down next to him. I leaned over and said I hear there is a depression meeting. Of course he invited me. It was synchronistic.
It’s unfortunate how quiet I can be when the mental anguish takes over. I do have a support system, I can’t seem to use it. I remember when I was a teenager we had to move as my dad was in the Air Force. It was in the middle of the desert and the ugliest place in the world. When I tried to share with my mom how much I hated it there she shut me down. She would not let me express my feelings.
In essence she told me to buck up and my father works hard to provide for us. Well that wasn’t even in question, my dad’s workaholic nature. Anyway I think this scenario plays a huge part in my inability to communicate when I hurt.
You’d think it would be so simple. Call up a friend for a support. I sure hope one day I will be able to do this. Meanwhile if you are reading this I hope you can reach out to your support network. You never know maybe they are having a bad day and your voice can soothe their soul.
Please visit a wonder full blog at stigmama.com
123 RV, SA, RW, PA, PH!