Have you ever imagined yourself totally lost out in a deep, dark forest? I think one can actually get that sinking feeling of never being found even if you haven't actually been there. This is kind of a sad story of wondering if you ever really had what you thought you did. I'd say this story is purely hypothetical, but it isn't. You might say it takes over where my last post left off. Mix together a well-adjusted person who is ready to set sail on a grand adventure after just coming off of having her life shattered by impending and eventual loss, with a person who is her antithesis in many ways. Some of this is going to deal with depression, which I knew little about.
I think I alluded it to it, but never really told you about my "friend", and don't know that I should at this juncture in time. But, if it helps lift the weight off, then so be it. We knew each other for about a year before he thought I "should start dating". A respectable amount of time had passed since losing my soul mate. But, being the cautious person that I am, the jury was out for at least a week regarding whether I wanted to be in this thing called "a relationship". Then we had a long chat about things that concerned me considering our different lifestyles -- turns out we had quite a bit in common given my wild streak and aforementioned sense of adventure that had long been buried. It was fun and interesting getting to know each other, and we had some very good times. I became fond of his family as well. But he had many health issues that I learned about over time, and one of them finally began to take it's toll.
What I had come to know as a happy, funny, adventurous person with a good heart, turned a good friendship into a roller coaster ride. Having an innate drive not to be a quitter, I vowed not to abandon him. I tried to understand what was happening with his on-again off-again attitude, and did a pretty admirable job of it. It took patience, and it was difficult to understand that his type of depression needed time and space. It was sad and hard for me to watch this person who cared about so many things to not care anymore. Oddly enough, he just keeps adding more and more responsibilities to his life at a time when he doesn't need that. Maybe he thinks it'll make all the hurt go away. I don't know the answer.
It seemed like each I-just-don't-care episode (for lack of a better word) came closer together and lasted longer. It began to consume my thoughts and, quite frankly, I didn't like that. I prayed that all of my self-talk over the years would save me from myself. For awhile I couldn't see that forest for the trees. I believe it's important for a person to know that they deserve the best this cold old world has to offer. If that means abandoning what seems to be shaping up as a lost cause, there's no sense in both of us staying in the forest with no sense of purpose. I will always stay in touch with him somehow, and will pray that he comes to know peace and happiness again. But, in the meantime, I have to take care of Kathy . . .
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