I'm sick.  By sick I mean mentally ill.  I am deeply depressed and thought about killing myself which apparently gets everyone's knickers in a knot.  I'm not going to kill myself but the fact that it crossed my mind made me realize how deeply depressed I am. 

I told my manager who called my husband.  I went home from work yesterday with a promise not to off myself.  Then I called the employee assistance line.  The first woman hung up on me.  Really?  I know it was an accident but really.  The second young woman I spoke to was kind and young.  She either had experience with depressed people or an algorithm in front of her, filled with good ideas for depressed people. 

I told her I've been battling this disease for forty-seven fucking years.  I'm tired of fighting it.  She likened depression to diabetes which is actually an analogy I've used myself but it doesn't really help.  I wouldn't want to be a diabetic for forty-seven years either.  Counting my carbs, checking my blood sugars, dealing with a body that needs food like medicine.  No thanks.  And depression isn't any better. 

She did give me one helpful suggestion, to write letters to the people whom I'm having a difficult time with, my son and my step daughter.  Not to send the letters, but to get everything out of my head which is always a good idea for me.  Because often things tend to circle around and around inside my brain until it spirals downward. 

Then there was the positive affirmations.  Cognitive behavior therapy.  Talk therapy.  Meditation.  Exercise.  Medication.   Blah, blah, blah.  All things I've done many times in the past.  She asked how they helped and I pointed out that I was talking to her because the thought of suicide had popped up in my head that morning.  Point taken.  At least she wasn't stupid.

So I'm off work for a few days.  I see my doctor tomorrow.  I need to take care of myself which is the hardest thing to do when you're depressed.