Depression and All Its Might

Everybody feels depression at some time or another. We all get a little down in our spirit now and then. A little depression is normal, right? No one is 100% happy, 100% of the time. Some people call it the blues. Some folks just refer to it as being down. True enough, we all feel down in the dumps from time to time; the problem is some people fall into the pit of depression and can’t find a way out. Sometimes, we cannot find our way to the surface of that deep blue. Some people are pulled under by a current that won’t let go.

 

A photo by Clem Onojeghuo. unsplash.com/photos/-YMhg0KYgVc
Photo by Clem Onojeghuo from Pexels

 

That Sinking Feeling

I’m not going by things I’ve heard. I’ve been severely depressed before. I’ve never been suicidal, but let me tell you, there have been days when it really didn’t matter if I woke up or not. I just didn’t care. Did I want to die? Nah. I would never want to leave my friends and family. My son and my granddaughter need me. If there’s one thing I know, I know my folks love me. That man loves me. He needs me.

During the time I was married, though, when the days of hell melded together, I just didn’t care. I knew that on any given day, I would likely be blamed for something. I knew that it was likely I would be belittled or made to feel inadequate in some way or another. I knew that regardless of how clean the house was, he’d find a speck of lint (because he made a point of looking for things like that). I knew that he’d head upstairs to check if the underside of the toilet lid was clean. I knew if there was a single cup in the sink, he’d stand there with his coat on and wash it because he “couldn’t stand mess”. Overall, I knew nothing I ever did would be good enough.

When It Finally Sets In

For me, deep, deep depression set in on three different occasions in my 50 years. As I said before, the first time was while I was married. The depression I experienced back then was the result of being battered mentally and emotionally. Eventually, I got professional help. I had to. To be honest, initially, I sought help for my son because I could see him spiraling out of control. I was kinda blind to what was going on in my own mind, but I knew my child needed help.

Almost from the beginning, the sessions that I had meant for my son turned into joint ones because the counselor recognized the mental and emotional beating I was taking. He actually told me that in the beginning, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to help me because I was so damaged. He thought he would have to refer me to a more experienced counselor. I was a complete mess. Like I’ve said a million times before, I didn’t realize that I was in shambles because I thought the hell I was in was normal.

Anyway, the next time I found myself down under was after the divorce. Sure enough, I had been freed from that hell, but the dissolution of my marriage also meant that for the first time in nearly 20 years, I was on my own. I found myself floating in the middle of the ocean with nothing but a life raft. Yes, my family and friends were all around me and refused to let me fall or fail, but depression can put a stranglehold on you that can’t be readily pried loose. It had me and it was suffocating me. All I wanted to do was sleep. Honestly, that’s all I did. I slept. I ate. I gained weight. I cried uncontrollably. I repeated those things day after day. The difference with that bout of depression, though, was that I was able to pull myself out. I know I would have benefited from the help of my counselor, but he was 250 miles away in Dallas, but thankfully, I was able to pull myself out.

My latest battle with depression is going on right now. It still pains me to say my nephew died. My entire world shifted on December 9, 2017. Many people who knew us have said that on that day, Margarett’s son died, but that he was my baby. He was. I was nowhere near being okay when one of my closest cousins died on January 14, 2018.

This time around, though, the depression is different. I know I won’t need professional help (although I wouldn’t hesitate to get it if I felt I needed it) this time around because I’m shrouded more in grief than anything. I’m still so stunned, I haven’t reached the point that I’ve entered the grieving stages. I’m not even at the first stage of the process which is denial because the truth is, it’s still not real to me. In my mind, neither of them are dead in the sense that I will never see them again. They’re just gone. I know that makes no sense, but neither of them is dead to me.

I know the reality will set in at some point, but as of this writing, it hasn’t. Nope, there’s nothing wrong with me — folks grieve differently and this is just my reality. I’m okay. I just need to process this stuff in my own way.

Help

 

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Photo credit: Photo by John-Mark Smith from Pexels

If you’re depressed, get help. If that means reaching out to your folks, CALL THEM! I know what it is to be too embarrassed to tell your story, but trust me when I tell you, your folks are there for you.

 

IF YOU ARE IN NEED OF CRISIS COUNSELING, CALL THE NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE AT 1.800.273.8255. Call those folks TODAY!

 

 

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After You’re Destroyed

By the grace of God, some of us survive domestic violence. That fact, in and of itself, is wonderful and something to be eternally grateful for. In some cases, though, the residual damage sustained is just as devastating as the abuse was itself. I’ve been there. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve either experienced the following things or I’ve watched (or am currently watching) friends experience them:

Out of the Skillet Into the Frying Pan

 

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Photo credit: www.pexels.com

 

Divorce oftentimes leaves a person reeling, unsure of his or her self-worth, wondering if true love will ever find its way to them again, or even if it ever really existed in the first place. Some of the strongest people are left mentally and emotionally displaced and ultimately begin the search for someone to fill the void that’s been left in their lives and in their heart. Sometimes they start that search a little too soon.

I know a woman, who at 42, has been married six times. She has recently started divorce proceedings for this latest marriage. I don’t of a time when she’s overlapped relationships, but it’s never long after one is over that she heads full-on into the next one. I’ve never known a time when she didn’t buy her own engagement/wedding rings in these relationships.

Once, during our weekly lunch meet-up, she said, “Trease, it seems like I keep running into narcissistic guys who just use me. I don’t know why I keep picking these guys that need to be fixed. I don’t know what a good man looks like. I try so hard to love them, but they never love me back.” I’m no relationship expert, but I readily advised her that she needs to love herself first and love herself hard. I reminded her that self-love is imperative in order to live and that it is not an act of selfishness.

I fully believe that once you truly begin to love yourself, you will refuse to allow anyone in your circle who won’t do the same. I believe that once you cherish your own heart, you won’t allow another person who refuses to do the same any access to it. You won’t be willing to jump from one empty relationship to the next in an effort to find true love.

There’s just no sense in jumping from one guy or girl to the next on a wing and a prayer, hoping that he or she will be the one. In my opinion, that’s one of the easiest ways for things to go from bad to worse. You’re in essence, jumping out of the skillet into the frying pan.

Don’t be the Pawn

One thing I’ve seen far too often is an unsuspecting person becoming paired up with a person who has just gotten out a long-term relationship. Every situation is different, but you can almost always win the bet that a person coming off a 20-year or so marriage is just not ready to start a new relationship immediately, let along get married.

I know three men, personally, who jumped into marriage or a Facebook relationship after their long-term marriages ended in divorce and I can vouch for the fact that in all three cases, the women that ended up with them found out they were being used. They were either rebounds, sex toys, or being used to show the ex-partner that the guy had moved on.

 

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Photo credit: www.pexels.com

 

Two of the guys I know ended up marrying younger women. One of them would later find out that the woman he chose was only there for his money; the other found out that he was the one who had been tricked. The woman he chose had a laundry-list of issues and problems that she chose not to share with him until well after they were married. The other guy ended up in a “Facebook” relationship and in the end, the younger woman got far too caught up her feelings and found herself left alone with memories of a too-good-to-be-true fling that was never real to begin with.

It’s All About the Sex

Listen, we’re all grown, but one of the easiest ways to get caught up in your feelings is to start out having rebound sex with a person and end up falling in love. You’re going to get hurt.

Just don’t do it.

Guard that Thing

 

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Photo credit: Trease Shine Hinton

 

Love is never, ever, ever supposed to hurt. Sometimes it does, but it’s not supposed to.

Be careful that you don’t become someone’s “look, I’m over you and I’ve moved on”, when the truth is, you were only being used.

Broken people will break you.

Hurt people will hurt you.

Keep your guard up. Love and live, but keep your eyes and ears open.

 

 

 

Death of a Thing

One of the most important lessons I learned after my divorce was the importance of dying to my old self. I had to kill her. I had to bury her 10-feet under — not six but TEN! There was no way I could have continued life and prospered in any manner had I continued to be the battered shell that had been left to rot.

After Abuse

By the time I made it back to Louisiana permanently in late August 2013, I was living life in a parallel universe. I was watching myself from a distance. Eventually, I was shaken back into reality and couldn’t believe what I was viewing. I was damaged in every imaginable way and I looked it. I mean I was a mess from my hair to my clothes. I just didn’t care.

That version of me didn’t just appear overnight. That woman had been dragged, half-way rebuilt, dragged again, and then just left to mold. She’d been left to die by someone who didn’t care about the destruction that had been left. The only time my appearance was mentioned was when my ex said, “You look pretty good when you comb your hair.” That came after he pleaded with me to have sex with his friend so he could watch. That night, my sense of self-worth tanked and it would take nearly five years for me to pull my head out of the sand.

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The inside of my head and mind had been damaged by a battering ram of mental and emotional abuse. It had been bludgeoned nearly to death.

Once I woke up, though, I knew I had to finish off the old Trease. She would have killed me if I hadn’t.

The Wake-Up

One day, I woke up and remembered that I’m smart. I’m not only speaking of my bachelor’s degree or my paralegal certificate. I’m talking about being wise to life. Some folks even refer to me as a smart-ass and that’s true, but I’m smart nonetheless.

 

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Photo credit: www.quickmeme.com

 

I realized that I have amazing worth. My friends and family love me. I love me!

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Photo credit: Everyday Self Love

I realized that I’m pretty. Nah, I’m beautiful. Don’t take that as conceit because if there’s one thing I despise, it’s deceit, but I know I’m easy on the eyes. Gray hair and all, I’m okay.

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Most importantly, I realized that I have so much to offer the world. The old Trease had to die in order for the new one to surface. The two of them couldn’t co-exist. One had to go and I chose to release the one who was no good to herself or anyone else.

I woke up and got a good whiff of the smell of life.

Today

I still have a way to go in some areas of my life, but for the most part, I’m good. I know I deserve unconditional love from a man. I know that I will give unconditional love to the next man. I won’t let the past dictate my future.

I keep myself up even though I could stand to lose a few pounds. I’m working on that, but my love of cheese and cake are undermining my best efforts.

Do what you have to do to be who you want to be. There is life after abuse. There is indeed life after abuse.

Love After War

Trusting again and ultimately loving again after divorce is hard. Dare I say in some cases, it’s impossible. It doesn’t have to be. It really shouldn’t be. Read on.

Opening Up

It’s not just about allowing a new person into your physical space. Starting a new relationship means that at any point, your emotions can peek around the corner of that wall you’ve so carefully constructed to keep the bad guys out. It means that at any point, your heart can, open itself up to that person.

 

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Photo credit: Pexels.com

 

Neither your heart nor your emotions ask your permission to fall in love. They just do it. They don’t consult your head. They just march right ahead and unfortunately, sometimes, land you in situations you have no business in. In some cases, the divorceé gets thrashed about in heartbreak again, but there are times when he or she causes the damage. Intentional or not, hurt people hurt people.

I’ve watched three guys remarry or get into committed relationships relatively quickly after getting divorced. I’m talking within a year or two. Don’t get me wrong — I know everyone is different. The thing is, the shortest length of time any of them had been married was 19 years. That’s a lot of time to spend with one person regardless of how wretched the situation was. True enough, they had all been in toxic marriages, but none of them were ready for (re)commitment. They were faking it. You can imagine what happened next…

The women they’d jumped into these new relationships with were destroyed. In one case, a college friend of mine got remarried after being married to another college friend for 22 years, posted absolutely beautiful pictures of their wedding, professed his love for the woman he deemed his soulmate, then silently divorced her after 10 months.

Another guy pulled a woman into a “Facebook relationship” within a year and a half of his divorce and what do you know? Their thing is done, too. He had been married 19 years.

Crumbling

Things can fall apart the other way, too. I know countless numbers of women who jump into relationships with guys they deem “the one” shortly after divorce and end up with the same kind of guy that hurt them before. I know too many guys who head into new relationships with women that treat them just as badly as their ex’s because the heart tends to lead the head after divorce.

In the end, I believe we’re all out to find love — not that fake mess that we see so often on social media. We want to love and to be loved. I fully believe there is someone out there for each one of us. Sometimes you stumble upon him or her at the grocery store. Sometimes you know all along, but keep missing that person.  I know exactly where my soulmate is. Just know that timing is everything. Timing is everything. Until all things are set in their proper places, the timing will always seem to be off. Patience. Patience, my friend.

 

 

 

Rebuilding from the Scraps

It’s hard to rebuild. It can be exciting because there is an element of newness involved in starting things over, but for the most part, rebuilding is hard. It’s been hard for me. I realize everybody’s story is different, but my story of rebuilding is not a particularly pretty one.

Since my divorce, I’ve been on a rollercoaster of an emotional ride. I started out with a plan to be alone for the first five years after I left the social status of being a wife, but that plan was blown to pieces when my ex-boyfriend, who had been an ex-boyfriend twice before we reconnected in 2013, re-captured my heart and we began an extremely intimate relationship. It was exhilarating, but there was enough baggage carried into that thing to fill an entire carousel in an airport. We needed some time apart. Anyway…

I’m finally back in paralegal work and I can’t begin to explain how much I love my job. A long time ago, I vowed that I would never be a family law paralegal, but here I am. It’s the most fulfilling job I’ve ever had. I’m also getting back on track with my book. I’m a stickler for scheduling so the fact that I haven’t had any real structure in my life the past few months has taken its toll on me. I’m on it so things are back under control. There are some other things in the works that I can’t talk about publically, but things are going to be pretty amazing very soon.

For a while there, there was nothing left but scraps. There was nothing left but the shell of a woman who had been everything to everybody except herself. The one thing that the two men who have had hold of my heart the past 30 years will tell you is that I love hard. They both received some of the best treatment a man could possibly want. One had it but threw it all away. Welp, too bad for him. The other one didn’t let me love him with my full heart and I really do feel sorry for him because true love is a treasure, and to have someone willing to give it to you unconditionally is a blessing from God.

If he is not willing to accept all that I am, there is a man out there who will. I believe that. I’m well on the road to becoming an even stronger woman than I was before so for the right man, I’m going to be irreplaceable. I’m nearly 50 so I’m not in this thing for games, indecision, shenanigans, or anything else but commitment. I’m an old-fashioned, country girl so I believe in letting love find me. I’m not going out looking for a man, but I believe, with all my heart, that the man I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with is very, very close and that we’ll cross paths at just the right moment.

I’m rebuilding from the scraps left over from years of damage, but the package is coming together nicely.

Internal Bleeding

Internal bleeding is never good. It’s the result of trauma, fracture, pregnancy, or any number of things. Internal bleeding is indeed a physical condition. It can also, however, be experienced in love.

I’ve reached an age where more of my friends than not have been divorced or have suffered some major blow to their relationships. Both my male and female friends have been devastated by love that eventually failed them in one way or another. Perhaps they fell out of love with their significant other; maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was a toxic relationship to begin with. Maybe it’s one where it never seems to be the right time. Whatever the case may be, the result is internal bleeding of the heart.

This one, I know about from experience. By the time my marriage ended, I was all out of blood. My ex-husband had drained me, not unlike, a vampire who couldn’t have cared less about the condition in which he left me. He took and took and took until there was nothing left but the shell of the woman he’d married 19 years earlier.

The good thing, though, is that, magically, my blood supply was replenished. Y’all know the story. It replenished, but the relationship that brought me so much happiness at one point eventually tore my rebuilt heart out. It’s hard to explain, but the tumbling of my last relationship was far more painful than my divorce. Maybe it’s not so hard to explain. Maybe it’s just that the man I trusted with my heart was so damaged and worn from his own divorce, he wasn’t capable of loving me like he thought he could. I lost my soulmate.

He is a good man. I’ll always believe that. I think he just got caught up with a woman who, like my husband, entered marriage with a mask on, which ultimately fell off, causing chaos and confusion. He was damaged, but I did my best to help him heal. He had my shoulder and my ear. He had all of me, but it just wasn’t enough.

The internal bleeding has stopped. It stopped a few months ago, but as with any great love story, I miss him. I guess I always will. We are at least on speaking terms again, but I don’t know that we will ever reach that fevered pitch that made us JDW and TSH. That thing was rare and coveted. Not many couples have (or ever will have) what we had. They just won’t because love is not just about the physical. A true love relationship involves the heart, mind, body, and soul. We had a connection that could easily be the topic of one of those “how they stayed together” news blurbs.

Who knows what the future holds, but I sincerely wish everyone could experience love on the level that we shared.

My Thoughts on “I Miss You” and “I’m Sorry”

After 19 years of marriage and 20 years as a couple, it took a minute for my ex and me to cut communications. On my part, it was due to the fact that Will still needed his help financially, we still had (have) a house in Denver, (will always) have a granddaughter together, and a couple of other stupid things I can’t go into here; on his part, he said it was because he couldn’t just “let go”.

I Miss You

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He called one day after the divorce had been final for a couple of months, and when I said, “Hello…”, he said, “Trē, I know you’re probably tired of me calling since we’re not together anymore, but I can’t just stop calling you. I’ve talked to you almost every day for the past 20 years so I’m having trouble letting go.” I didn’t respond because, to be honest, I didn’t know what to say. Just after that, he said, “I miss you.” I was silent. Even after all he’d put me through, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but the truth was, I didn’t miss him. How could I? This was the person who had ground my emotions and mentality to mush. This was the person who had, after I’d stood by him through his drug and alcohol use, unemployment, and sickness (can’t go into that here), come in and told me that he wanted a divorce. This was the man who had left me with that big house to pack alone and $200 to get it all to Louisiana. He was telling me that he missed me.

Nah. He didn’t miss me. I’m not quite sure what he missed, but it wasn’t me. You hold on to what you know you’d miss.

I’m Sorry

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He apologized so many times during our marriage that I lost count and ultimately lost concern for the apologies in general. The last time he apologized to me, though, I think he meant it. Actually, I know he did. He had come here for Mama’s funeral and on the way back from the cemetery, he told me that he was so sorry for everything he had put me through. He apologized for being such a bad husband and for not being a better role model for Will. It wasn’t his tears because I had seen (crocodile) tears from him before. Many times before. This time around, he was speaking from the heart. Of course, that apology from the heart came far, far too late, but I know he meant it.

Carrying On

My issue with people issuing apologies is that far too often, they don’t mean it in the sense that apologies should be issued. They’re not sorry for the act itself.

They’re sorry for a plethora of reasons, up to and including:

  • you found out about what they did (in their mind, they wouldn’t need to apologize if they’d been a little slicker)
  • you’re mad about what they did (how dare you be mad)
  • they got caught, which leads to them…
  • being mad at and really apologizing to themselves for not being slicker
  • they’re just plain conditioned to saying they’re sorry

If you’re going to apologize, do it only if you mean it. If you’re doing it as yet another aspect of your tom-foolery, save everyone the trouble and just shut up.

Now, my issue with people saying they miss you is this: if you know you have a good woman or man, why in the living hell would you mistreat, misuse, neglect, reject, or otherwise mess over him or her? We’re all at an age where we know the difference between right and wrong, and unfortunately (fortunately?), most of us have experienced enough rotten people to know when we have a good one. I think that, in some cases, “miss you” is just truth in lending to the old saying, “you don’t miss your water till the well runs dry”. You know what you have when you’ve got a good one. Now, unfortunately, you know what you had.