Where I stand....if I can.

I bought my plane ticket to Arizona on Saturday. That is where I'm going to rehab. I guess that was my big Christmas present to myself. I emailed the itinerary to my intake counselor today. On one hand, it all seems a bit surreal...like this isn't really happening. But on the other hand, it is all I am about. My focus in life now is to hang on until I can get there. If I could help it, I would have left today. But because of the insurance stuff and a new calendar year being less than a week away, I told myself to stick it out until then.
There is something about depression that engulfs a person in such a way that one may hope or even pray that the waves surrounding them, will swallow them whole. I remember reading an obituary awhile ago, that addressed depression as the disease that it is. This particular person apparently committed suicide. It had said in effect that this person had lost their brave battle with depression. I've often read about those who have lost their brave battle with cancer, with MS, with a host of physically based illnesses, but I had not read one that addresses the mental/emotional albeit still physical by means of the neurotransmitters of the brain, illnesses. I thought it was quite poignant.
Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like sitting with your family for Christmas dinner, trying to fight back the tears with every bite of food, and no one else realizing your stuggle. And nothing says "I have anxiety for the holidays" like being so relived to take the Christmas tree down, because for some reason, it was sooo torturous to put up. On my way home from the family festivities last night, I wanted someone to pat me on the back and congratulate me for making it thru Christmas, not having yet killed myself. I wanted someone to recognize that the worst month of the year, as trying as this whole year has been, has not lead to my demise...yet. I think (although I'm not sure I can hope,) that next year might be better....could it be much worse?

The 'work' Christmas Party

It was almost too easy. I had worried for a while about going to my works Christmas party. We were to do a secret Santa gift for someone, one thing on the first week of December, another thing on the second week of December, and one big thing to give to them tonight at the party. Of course, it was surrounded by food. In fact it was at a local pizza buffet place in town. I went in, just before I had to go to work, and drop off the 'big' gift, I said 'HI' to a few people, made small chit chat and then simply wished everyone a 'Merry Christmas' and a 'Good Night' and I was out of there. It couldn't have gone any better....and no one chided me for anything.

A semi-traditional (for me) Christian Christmas party...

I went to my church's Christmas party last night. It was akward. It was a dinner and you were to show up in formal dress....formal meaning, white shirts and ties for men and boys, dresses or skirts for women and girls. My depression was faily apparent and my emotional fortitude was waining, but the fact that we still went should say something about us. I certianly don't feel as though I belong there with that group of people like I have felt with them previously.....perhaps it is because of my own actions that I have ostercised myself from them. I have not told one single person in my congregation that I am going to rehab. I'm not sure that I will...

Trying to 'get' to recovery...

I'll be the first to admit that I'm not yet in recovery. I'm not even sure what that means or all it entails. I, where I am today, cannot even imagine or think of what recovery looks like, feels like.....I'm sure I have no idea today what recovery means. Granted, working in the healthcare field, I know what it means in terms of taking care of a patient. In terms of the one who needs healing, I'm clueless.
I did an intake admission assessment with an inpatient rehab facility on Thursday. It was all on the phone and took about an hour. They called me a few hours later to let me know that I did in fact qualify to go. You have to understand that I was surprised because in my mind set, I wasn't that 'sick'. Sunday, I told my mom, to make sure she could watch my three kids for a month. Today I submitted my request at work for FMLA, leave under the "Family Medical Leave Act"... My boss was less than thrilled although I had done my best to aleviate her 'pain' all I could to soften the blow. And as much as she may think she's the victim, I know that I have to do this for me, because I'm sure what I'm about to encounter will not be worth going thru for someone else.
So stay tuned. This is going to be my journal, published in amonimity, so that I may have the courage to be as honest as possible...and in turn I hope that those who read this may gain courage as well.