What is left?

More than half this day I was in a depressive funk, and when I wasn't, I was either spaced out or coasting, trying to distract myself from feeling like s***.

I get angry about feeling this way, because I look at my life, and my fears, and realize life is short and I don't want to spend my days and nights being depressed and nailed to my bed. On the other hand, I've gotten depressed because I've been in bed much of the past several years due to chronic illness and pain limiting my life as it is. Depression came with the territory after that, and with the string of events which followed because I was ill.

The outlines of what's happened, that I've been reflecting on today...

I'm in my 40's and I've been married and divorced, gone to college, worked, earned some good money for a while but then was forced to stop working, and lost a lot of friends.

I was told by my doctor to put off having children when I became ill, and to wait until I got better. I was in a relationship with someone I was seeing post-divorce when the doctor told me this. After a few years of not getting better -- and his own desire to have kids -- my boyfriend distanced himself from me and started a new relationship with someone else.

Someone else who already had kids from a previous relationship. When I had none. Now I'm too old to have any with anyone. And too risky.

Losing my job meant a loss of independence and many other things. Losing my friends was even harder, because I'd been estranged from my family and have brief, distant phone calls and emails with any of them.

I had built up a large circle of friends over the years as my support system because my parents were so dysfunctional, I never felt safe about even asking my folks if I could move back in with them temporarily if things ever got touch.

Now that support system is mostly gone, and I have a few close friends -- and two I can really rely on. I'm grateful I have the friends I have, really grateful, but I also find myself saddened that my old friends were less interested in maintaining friendships when I became ill and could no longer visit them or visited them far less often.

As I've said, I'm in my 40's. Part of me has trouble believing this because I fell ill in my 30s, and my illness affected my cognitive abilities including memory.

It has slowly gotten better in the past year, but only after years of being in a complete haze and not remembering conversations I've had with people only minutes after having them. Because of this, part of me still emotionally feels and thinks of myself as still being in my 30's, but the mirror doesn't lie nor does the fact that I'm 'waking up' to all these changes I'm learning about years later. It is disconcerting, like stepping out of a time capsule into the future like in some science fiction show.

I also don't know who I am. I'm trying to figure that out, slowly... When my ability to remember easily got lost, I couldn't integrate memories, and by extension, I couldn't build on top of the self I was. Personal growth was sacrificed for survival. Finding ways to cope with pain and do simple tasks became central to my life and everything else fell to the wayside. I as a person got lost, and I also have had to work hard to keep my emotions in check or the physical pain and fatigue worsens.

I write about all this, and in some ways I can intellectually detach from it and examine myself as an outsider would, and say what happened to me was interesting. I think doing so is how I've coped as long as I have without offing myself. But periodically there are cracks in the facade that break and my emotion pours forth, and I am in a world of pain. I wake up, and realize I spent months nearly bedbound, a block of time housebound, and a longer period of time getting out a little, but not really doing anything much before I'd be too exhausted or in pain and need to come home.

There have been little breaks -- trips I've taken out of town -- and these were mentally often good for me, initially. But physically I would eventually break down and sometimes end up in the ER in another state. Which is never fun. My girlfriend would tell me, "Well, at least you got a change of scenery". Yep. That I did...

I look back on all of this and at the same time, find out my friends I hadn't heard from in years went on to get new jobs, buy a house, have kids, and secondhand stories about how they did this or that with their kids and...

I lose it. I've been denied this. I can't have a family of my own. I will never teach my little girl how to bake cupcakes. I will never handsew a Halloween costume for my kid. I will never build a snowman with them. I will never sit down and make paperchains with them. I will also never bandage their skinned knee or take care of them when they have a cold. I will never help them with homework. Watch them go off to highschool. Go to college. Get married. Have kids of their own.

I am an evolutionary dead end. I have to come to terms with it. It hurts.

And what also hurts right now is that independent of this, I'm unhappy with my own life. It hasn't gone the way I thought it would. I was even open to it ending up somewhere different. But not like this. I would have been okay ending up working in a foreign country. I would have been okay with earning less for a while. Or going back to school. I would have been okay with a lot of things.

But the way my life is now... I don't see much hope. That's the difference, between now and when I was younger and got laid off from a job, or had a breakup with my boyfriend of the time, or had to move. I felt like when a door closed, another opens... that I would be okay regardless of what happened and good things would enter my life in the future.

I don't feel that way now. I don't know if I will be able to work again. The milestones so many reach -- kids, house, promotions -- do not appear to be mine to reach.

I've probably had my one big wedding in my life I'll ever have, and there hasn't been a reason to celebrate anything else in a long time. Last time I tried to have a birthday party with lots of friends, I was forced to cancel it because I was too sick. I try not to make a big deal of it now.

This is why I'm depressed. It isn't just the losses of the past. It's the feeling that everything is a flat, gray, field extending to the horizon with only small dots of color that represent a scoop of ice cream or a movie I'd like... but otherwise most of the color has been drained out of it. I scurry towards the crumbs, hoping to get something good...but I'm left alone, starving, when I can see people feasting on a distant hill through my binoculars.

Help. I'm hungry.

First of all, I'm sorry you feel so bad. Depression is so cruel to us.
I can understand how you feel.

One or two close friends is so much better than having many who don't fully understand and support you.
I hate that you lost some friends, but they're not true friends or worthy of your time. People change, situations change over time, and sometimes some friendships can't bend with the times.
I'm glad you have some really great friends. Stay grateful for them!

I hate that you feel you've missed out on so much.
It's so hard to watch others around you doing things they take for granted, when you'd give anything to have them.

If you can't have biological children, you could consider adoption if you get to the place in your life when you can handle it.

Mainly, just focus on you. No other person on earth can complete you more than YOU. It's so hard, but you have to take care of yourself and enjoy the little things in the day. Don't worry too hard about what's in the future. Easier said than done. But keep taking it one day at a time.

I hope your pain goes away and you have better days. You definitely deserve them.
I wish you all the best! Just hang in there.

Thanks. I really feel like crap a lot lately.

I am very grateful I have close friends, even a few. I just wish the others who are no longer in my life were there, somehow... They don't have to fully understand my situation or offer me a ton of support -- I just wish they would've visited me on occasion, chat, email... It was like 'Facebook' only and after a while, I didn't want to be on Facebook. I quit. It depressed me to read it.

I came to the conclusion some of them were very self-absorbed. Others were busy, and I forgive that. But I'm sad some of them didn't even seem to make a small amount of effort to see me after I got sick. I mean, c'mon, it's not hard to come over and watch a movie with me and hang out for 2-3 hours. 2-3 hours was the most company I could handle at one time, any way.

I do.

Not likely. I have a lot of medical debt, and am disabled. I might get better, with time... but by the time I do, even if I won the lottery and paid the debt, I'd be considered too old to adopt. There is an age cutoff limit on adoptions, including foreign adoptions.

I think I have to reconcile it to myself somehow that it isn't happening. Kids are not in the cards, short of volunteering for some organization that helps kids.

It is easier said than done. I've already spent several years not working, being ill, and falling into debt. I have coped so far because I was always in massive brain fog and couldn't remember things. Events. Conversations. Now I'm 'waking up' on and off, and there is a lot of previously repressed anger coming out.

In putting myself first right now, I've signed up for therapy and try to see a therapist every week. Beyond that, I'm not sure what to do for myself. I've used the little things -- like the ice cream and the movie -- to keep myself going. But it's not enough. I need to have other things to look forward to. And I need my time here on earth to have more meaning, more worth.

Thanks. I've hung in here a long time already though. Lately I've just felt myself snapping. Lately I've been finding myself saying, 'enough'.

I understand completely how you feel. Depression is a mountain and we're climbing it. You're not alone

Reflecting back on what I posted yesterday, I think the biggest problem is my life feels empty. I think a lot of folks who miss out on one aspect of life find fulfillment in another, and it may act as a substitute for what's missing -- or, if not a substitute, at least be something positive someone can point to and feel good about in its own right.

For example, the suggestion that I adopt. That makes total sense, to suggest that if I can't have my own kids that I could legally adopt my own kid someday. It's trying to give me the experience of parenting and raising children even if I don't have my own.

I've already stated why that doesn't seem possible or probable, and I say that not out of depression but out of awareness about adoption laws and income requirements, and that I'm in my mid-late 40's. So I suggested my own substitution, which was volunteering to help kids somehow once I get better enough to do so.

Even if that's something I could do, part of me is emotionally resistant to it because I anticipate volunteering to help kids won't fulfill what I wanted: a close emotional bond, like family, and doing special things for the holidays together. That look on your kid's face when they first see all their Christmas presents. That. This sort of moment will not be part of my life if I were to volunteer to help kids, or if I did help hand out Christmas presents donated for the most unfortunate kids, it still wouldn't be the same. And I would probably be reminded on a regular basis that these kids are not mine, and my relationship to them would be different. I know this from work I used to do with kids years ago, when I was volunteering while in college.

So, if this may not be satisfying and even trigger grief in me to work with kids as a volunteer, I have to be careful with that. I don't want to bring my personal baggage into a situation where a child needs my help, even if only short term or momentary. That's not fair to them. And not good for me.

I begin to think about other people who couldn't have kids, and what they did. Well, some of them threw themselves into their careers. Some of them had jobs that just paid the bills, but invested a lot of their time after work into home improvement and entertaining their friends at home and showing off their home improvements. Others traveled a lot, and took on work assignments that were offbeat and unusual in order to travel.

So, people who either have been childfree by choice or did not have their own kids for any reason ended up putting their energy into their career, home, social life, or travel.

All of which makes sense. It's what I would do, too. Only... I get depressed because I don't have the same choice other people do in the same situation.

I haven't been able work because I've been too sick and disabled to work. I was forced to move out of my home and live with others as a charity case -- for which I'm very thankful for because otherwise I would probably be couchsurfing for a while and eventually homeless.

But I don't own a home, and I have nearly nothing of my own in the space where I live. I have part of a closet, a place to lay my head, and a few shelves. That's it. This, after I had thoughts of buying my own home and decorating it however I want and organizing it how I want. It didn't happen. I got sick and I lost a good paying job.

And where I live now, it's a constant battle to get others to keep it clean and organized simply so I don't trip and hurt myself (I have neuropathy, and can't feel the bottom of my feet, so it's important that people don't leave even small things on the floor for me to stumble on at night.).

It wouldn't be half so bad to not have what I wanted for my life if it were more acceptable to live where I am now. But this place gets messy and cluttered very quickly, and no one really wants to do housework here even if they are able bodied and have lots of energy. When asked, they say it isn't a priority and they have more important things to do.

For me, it's a high priority for things to be clean and organized. It affects my health, both physical and mental, to be in a space that's cluttered and disorganized. But the people I live with don't seem to be affected by any mess.

I keep trying to remind myself that if it weren't for this roof over my head, I could be homeless. That temporarily staves off my frustrations. But eventually I come back to the thought that there's more to life than this and I want things to get better. That I don't want to live like this indefinitely.

And I remind myself it's not all awful. I keep trying to remind myself of that, too. My basics are covered. I have clothes on my back, food to eat, and healthcare. People care about me and make sure I am okay, and if I need a ride to a doctor's appointment, I often get one.

I am very appreciative of that. Even though I am in pain and disabled, I try to contribute and show my appreciation to others. Even if it takes all day for me to scrub one load of dishes and put them in the dishwasher, I do that. Even if I have to wipe down a counter minute by minute over time, I do. It's something within my control to do even if it takes me much longer than the average person to do and I have to rest a lot.

Even as I am aware that I have what I have, and know that a good percentage of the world lives in extreme poverty... I feel empty. And I realize it isn't just about not meeting certain goals which are highly valued in the real world (home ownership, career, adventurous travel) but that inner, personal goals are unmet as well (relationship with offspring, building more intimate friendships, an active social life, exploring new hobbies, etc.).

I guess I feel empty, and like my tank has been running on fumes for a long time. I've tried to fill it myself by reading online, coloring for relaxation for 15 minutes (until I have to stop because my wrist hurts), cooking new but simple recipes and sharing them with a neighbor, listening to bands I never heard of before, and a few other solitary activities.

But my time is mostly solitary here. I don't integrate/fit into where I am that well. I don't think the people around me can easily relate to me and understand me even if they care about helping me.

I think this is one thing that's really getting under my skin, and I don't know how to address it. But it does change what I experience as solitude into loneliness over time, and is feeding the depression.

I've rambled on long enough. I don't know if it's helped or not. But maybe it has.

I'm so sorry to read you are feeling like this, you are so articulate in your writing and you express yourself very well, you aren't rambling at all.

When my depression was at it's worst that's how I felt, and I had a family - I felt huge guilt for not being able to be a proper mother. Depression does terrible things, but it can and will get better.

Wishing you better times soon.