Monday, December 5, 2011
Church yesterday was pretty much just as ugly. My husband was given a calling. After he was asked if he would accept the 2nd Counselor turned to me and told me I was next. And that the bishopric had been and will continue to pray about which calling in the Ward would be best for me. Very subtle I turned to him and said "now is not a good time for me to have a calling". He didn't like that response I gather.
I left shortly after that and then came back towards the end. As I sat in the foyer the same person came up to me and talked to me a 'bit more' about receiving a calling. Receiving blessings from accepting callings. And a ton of other mumbo jumbo. I made it very clear, with out going into details (because remember.....in my everyday life I try very hard to keep this shit at bay and no where near the surface) that right now is NOT a good time for me. I can barely function enough to work. And having any more responsibility at this time is not something I am willing to accept. He continued w/the church standpoint and the common Church standpoint on callings. It was clear he doesn't get it. And he wasn't hearing me. I get and understand and have LIVED the blessing that come from serving other members of our congregation in different callings. However, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it is NOT to be now!
As we left church and headed to town to meet w/a friend for her birthday; I mentioned to my husband what Brother H had said after he went to his Priesthood meetings. My husband knows that functioning for me right now is at bare minimum. And adding any extra ounce of anything would be catastrophic. He shook his head and very bluntly said "NO...You don't need a calling. You need to get better". At least, I know I will have his support in this manner.
Then as the day progressed and I thought about this conversation. I thought about the root and beliefs that my religion has on callings....good ol' guilt started to creep in. And boy is there nothing better to fuel my (or anyone) depression than guilt.
I'm already pulling out every single tool, every single stop, every single thing that several years of therapy have drilled in my head......and I'm still in this rotten f*cking place. I've taken my meds as I should. I missed a dose over the weekend. I did end up taking them last night. However, sometimes missing ONE dose is better than what the alternative was at that moment when I decided to throw the damn bottle on top of the bathroom cupboard so that I couldn't get it down w/o much thought/planning and energy. There was one of two alternatives at the moment I did that. That was the lesser of two evils.
A place where every ounce of my body hurts. Because this fucking battle is taking its toll. And today, it has taken its toll on my body. Complete and udder control. I hurt. Everywhere.
I can't keep it up anymore. Despite keeping up and working to the best of my ability (sure some could disagree), I can't seem to kick this. I have no clue if I will make it to group tonight. I have no clue what lies beyond "publish" of this post. I do know I am still in my robe. I do know that after publish on this post I will be turning my computer and phone off and head back to bed. I know staying in bed is dangerous. It is what I have right now and it is safe.