A hand to hold

I can't remember the last time I read a book or watched TV, and I'm about 3 issues behind in my magazine subscriptions. Friends I've missed for months finally call and I'm too lackadaisical to even check my messages. I mean to respond to emails, but when I open my inbox each day to 300 new newsletters and obligations, it's hard to get around to anything but moving each message into its appropriate folder--or else leaving it to read...later (which is usually more likely never).

I'm overwhelmed. How do I explain to new friends--those I've never seen in person--that this is just how it goes when you're depressed; and that I need desperately for them to be there in these times--now more than ever. Just a note; a thought; a video they thought I might like; something to make me smile.

I'm trying SO hard, but hardly anyone's been around long enough to see that I'm doing so much better that I'm barely recognizable as the person I was one year ago today.

I have my first session with a new counselor on Monday (#23 on my 101 in 1001 list: Find a counselor who really helps me; attend regular sessions (2x/month if possible).) And I'm scared. I've seen around 30 different counselors, and only one has helped me. What are the odds that this time I'll get lucky?

And I'm afraid of talking about my PTSD--afraid of the emotions that I hid in the first place for my very survival. What happens when I bring them out again--now; when I don't know who I can count on for support? Yes, once in awhile and just checking in are infinitely better than nothing, but knowing for sure and having moments of joy and friendship to look forward to through the long, exhausting days are worth more than anyone will ever know.

I'm ready for a fast journey. I'm ready for this process to be over and done with. But in the meantime, I'd like to know that in the absence of husband and family, I'll have friends who'll surround me; holding me up until I'm strong enough to walk and dance and smile by and for myself.