Memories/ Depression

I got up this morning, made coffee and tasted a memory.

I drew the curtains, stretched and felt a memory.

I turned on the radio and heard a memory.

I’m not homesick for my old place, but I’m homesick for those tastes, feelings and sounds.

I’m homesick for some of those old memories.

______________________________________________________________________

Interesting how I had more hope for the future back in that wasteland I came from.
Suppose all one can have is hope for something better when one has nothing at all.

I didn’t cry this morning. My depression is getting better. It’s going away.
As I’ve said before in reference to managing bipolar disorder without medication, there are certain things that one must have and do. I finally have the support system I’ve needed. It does no good to hold everything in and not talk about it. I have April, Jessica, Deven, Daniel, and my girl. Of course, my depression comes from missing her, but being able to tell her and talk to her about it helps. She cared about me. She misses me. She’s trying to be there for me. All of that helps.

I wish my support system was a little bit stronger, but I’m grateful for what I have and I’m smart enough and strong enough to know and do what I have to in order to pull out of it.
And if worse comes to worse, I know when I’m bad enough that I have to seek professional help. I almost reached that point. I almost gave in and went to a doctor. I think I’m okay, though. I don’t think I need to do that. I just have to follow my own advise. I’ve dealt with this before and I have to remember that. I have to force myself to do things and take care of myself.

I don’t think I’ll stop missing her. I don’t think I’ll get over her. She wasn’t just my girlfriend; she was my best friend, my lover, my partner, my soulmate, my other half. One doesn’t just move on from that.

What kills me is that everything would be different and she would be mine if we weren’t nearly 10,000 miles apart.

We talked last night and she apparently didn’t realize that my depression stems from her. She thought I was dating and moving on. She doesn’t seem to realize how special she is; how no one in America will ever compare to her. How can they? She’s too perfect. She is everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. I appreciate all of her strengths, weaknesses, quirks and qualities. She’s not “too much” or “too little” of anything.

Next month is going to be the hardest for me. I’m going to fall apart for a little while. I know she’s not coming, and it’s going to kill me. She was supposed to be here for Thanksgiving. The holiday is going to be really hard now without her here.

But I’ll be okay.

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