I Understand If You Don't

When I read your latest post, I thought about calling mom. Do you even know that I read your blog?

It sounded desperate: Sometimes I really don't know if I can hold on much longer. I’m tired and I just want to die. Then, you wrote that you were willing yourself to hold just a little longer, just until you are too tired to stay awake.

You’ve been going through depression for such a long time and I don’t know if you’ve just given up on the meds or given up on life and the possibility that it won’t get any better than it is now for you.

I know what it was like, when death seemed preferable than going on. For me, the choice was to have the strength to leave everything and go somewhere and start over, to be the "real me."

I don’t know if running away from home like I did would help you. I don’t think so.

Maybe you don’t need to run away from home. But maybe talking with other people who are going through the same thing would help. I don’t know. Maybe you need different meds.

For a few days, I was afraid that I would get a frantic call from J in the middle of the night. I left my cellphone on instead of turning it off like I usually do. When I saw your facebook status--just a cellphone pic of a half-eaten hamburger--I was relieved. I know it doesn’t mean a thing, but maybe you found a way to hold on just for another week, just another month.

Please hold on. But I understand if you don't.