If you're lucky enough to be in the mountains, you are lucky enough.

When something bad happens, you have three choices: let it define you, let it destroy you, or let it strengthen you.

The purpose of life is to discover and develop your gift. The meaning of life comes from sharing your gift with others. - David Viscott

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Not a post

but a cry. It may even disappear before many read it. May be not. It happened before. It is my journal. The running part of it is for you. This one is for me.
Some are my personal friends. Some followed this blog for a long time. So those know. I have a drug addicted child. We fought. We tried. We went into every measure. We are out of options. It escalates day to day. Officials can't help. Family and friends can't help. Worse is - I can't help...my own baby. I can just watch him and cry. Though I hardly see him. Hardly speak to him. Hardly touch him at all. I cry a lot. I haven't trained in 3 months. I sleep little and eat sometimes. I breathe, I read blogs and emails, I respond, I am happy for you. I go to work and even do my job. My marriage suffered, and while it added to depression, at this moment I am not even thinking or worrying about it. I care about little. I am no fun to be around. My mind is always "not here, not now".
Why writing it here? Not sure. It built up, it needed an outlet in words. No respond, no email would help or change anything. this is for me. I felt I wanted to finally let it out.
I'm seeing shrink on Monday. May be some happy pill will make me smile? Won't change the situation though. I am told - try and detach and go on with your life. Would you? I mean, I can suggest it as well - but could you? Some may have gone through it themselves as teens - do you remember your parents? May be some are going through this as parents - does it feel like slow death to you? Have you ever wanted to end it at once? I won't, I've got Stephen. thank God I am not suicidal as I was as a teen, thank God I have my other boy and a reason to be here.
My runs affect me less in a positive way with time. Although they still do - what would I do without? Some had gone through depression and emerged on the other side happier and stronger people - was it worth waiting?
I don't want to be tough anymore. I feel lonely. I have many shoulders to cry on, many friends who talk to me to take my mind off, some who feed me when I forget. But I am very lonely nevertheless.
So I snapped. So it's here. Next time I'll write about Waldo race and my grand time volunteering and cheering on friends, and swimming in lakes with Stephen. It'll go back to normal, whatever normal is right now.
So bear with me here. I haven't changed. I just lost a zest. I am sure one day I'll find it.