[CONTENT WARNING: Contains discussion about suicide, mental illness and addiction that may be triggering to survivors. (Also profanity.)]
It’s embarrassing to write honestly about my response to the death of Robin Williams because it was utterly selfish.
When we mentally ill find out that one of us was taken, we feel sad, yes – but mostly we feel afraid. Monday night I was going about my business and all was well-ish and then I read the news and suddenly fell still and silent with fear. I felt shamed– like the universe had caught me red-handed with too much peace in my grubby little hands. Like I was getting too free and healthy and big for my britches and so I needed to be put in my place.
Dear Glennon- Look what happened tonight. That’s right. Don’t you go getting too comfortable there, sweetheart. Love, Your Asshole Brain.
I felt like I needed to slink, cower, tiptoe around my home because the monster was still out there – prowling, picking us off, one by one. And so I needed, really, just to be as tiny as possible and not draw any attention to myself. And so that’s what I did until that awful remembering set in like a slinky, foggy cartoon ghost. It tapped me on the inside and said– but the monster’s not out there, honey – it’s in here. It’s in here with you. It IS you.” Where do you hide when the deadly monster is inside of you?
There is nowhere to hide from yourself. Except, of course, inside of death. People who get that – GET THAT and so that is why you’ll never hear a fellow addict saying wide-eyed: “how could he do that?” And why you only hear non-addicts saying:” My God, I can’t even IMAGINE.” Because addicts can. We can imagine.
Well, yes- I guess a person without a monster living inside of them would not be able to imagine the need to hide from one. But we do. And so we’d never suggest that an addict died of a lack of courage or love any faster than we’d suggest a diabetic died of a lack of courage or love. We don’t say much at all in the wake of it all- we’re just quiet and we hang our head in reverence for our brother or sister’s suffering and we hold our hat in our hand and clench our fists in solidarity and we wonder who’s next.
But of course I said none of this to Craig Monday night. I just stared at a few pictures of Robin Williams thinking: Of course. It’s always the smiling, laughing ones, dancing so hard to convince the world and themselves that all is well. Making it all better with nothing but the sheer force of our wish that it was better. And I just pointed at an article and Craig said, “Oh, SHIT” and then we closed the computer to make dinner for the kids.
And then later, we were on the couch watching all the ridiculous “news” shows that were interviewing every mental health expert on the planet and every human who once caught a glimpse of Robin Williams on a sidewalk, and Craig looked at me sideways and said, “That’s not going to be you, you know.” And I didn’t look at him at all, I just stayed in my roly-poly ball in the corner of our couch and I said, “Oh, I know. I know that.”
Because what else are we going to tell them? The truth? Which is: How the hell can you know that? How do you know that’s not going to be me? How am I going to fare better than Robin Williams did? Because I have so many more resources? Because I’m so much more talented, smart, wise than he??? Because I have access to better information, treatment, drugs? Because there will be more light shined on me? On what is this optimistic prediction based?
We don’t know who lives or dies from this disease. We don’t know. We can’t know. This monster is relentless and arbitrary and ever-present and so even in the best of times, when we’re on top of the world and laughing and dancing and flying – we laugh and sing and dance with the realization that we are doing these things with a ticking time bomb lodged permanently inside of us. Tick, tick, tick.
“That’s not going to be you, honey.” But it already IS me, honey.
To my fellow Bad Ass Survivors: Take your goddamn meds and don’t listen to anybody who tries to shame you out of them. They just don’t know- because they don’t have to know. They are two-legged men calling prostheses a crutch. They will not be there in the dark with you. They won’t. You can choose to ignore their reckless voices now or the monster’s voice later. Bite the freaking bullet and swallow the damn pills. I think of my medicine like I do my faith- if I find out one day that it’s all bullshit- oh, well. It made me happy and helped me love life and my people better.
If you are in the dark right now- if you are in the clutches of the monster today: Call someone for help (1-800-273-TALK (8255)). Tell them the truth. TELL YOURSELF THE TRUTH. This is the lie the monster tells us: THERE IS NO HOPE. IT WILL NEVER GET BETTER. IT IS PITCH BLACK DARK AND IT WILL NEVER BE LIGHT AGAIN.
Here is the truth we yell back at the monster: LIAR!!! THERE IS HOPE. IT WILL GET BETTER. IT IS NOT PITCH BLACK NOW. THERE IS LIGHT AND THAT LIGHT IS THE KNOWLEDGE THAT IF I WAIT WELL, YOU WILL TIRE AND MOVE ON. I CAN WAIT YOU OUT BECAUSE YOU ARE SCARIER BUT I AM STRONGER.
Not dying is sometimes just a matter of waiting the monster out.
We are here. We are still here. #ThisIsTheFace
We’ve gotta stay in the light. The only thing the dark cannot overcome is the freaking light. STAY OUT.
Love.
G
Author of the #1 New York Times Bestseller LOVE WARRIOR — ORDER HERE
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392 Comments
thank you for this article. Your right, the people that seem the happiest and most pulled together are often the ones that need the most help. I fee like that describes me so much. I am a woman who has been intermediately fantasizing about suicide over the past month and a half. I honestly don’t think i’m at the point where Id really kill myself right now, but my mind in its agitation just gravitates to that place….” I realize that I dont really want to kill myself but I just want someone to hear me, I want to know that someone really loves me and cares. just want to feel better and I want to feel like life is worth living. It doesn’t seem fair or right to have to trod through life alone. Im tired of living a sexless, loveless life devoid of meaningful connection. I feel like killing myself is a way that I could take some control of my life . And yes and I know that sounds completely psychotic when all the while im going to tell you now that im not a psycho. That i’m just as normal as most people.
I can’t fight my monster with meds. The meds fight ME. My body rejects all chemical pharmaceuticals. This makes my journey simply different, with the need to find other ways, and think outside of the clinical box. However, this doesn’t negate the effectiveness and need of meds for others. Some people benefit. Others don’t. It’s all a matter of knowing your body and what it tells you. 🙂
I fight my monster(s) with my actions, my words, the words of others, light, faith and grace. 🙂
Glennon, you help me to do this. Thank you for being you, and KEEP FIGHTING! The world needs more Warriors. Much love <3
Robin Williams and other suicide victims are not selfish!! Maybe you have never been in enough pain! You lie and say it couldn’t happen to you. Well, wake up, this shit is real life or death! It takes a tremendous amount of courage to leave this world behind. The constant self-talk, anxiety, darkest depression, mood swings, molestation… The world needs to stop judging and let us live our lives the best we can. We just want to feel normal! Spouses not fully understanding our pain and our need to protect those we love from it. It is a struggle that takes it’s toll on the strongest of people. The families of the suicide victim should be glad their loved one is finally out of pain.
I was appalled at what I see as the selfishness of RW’s suicide. Not *that* he did it, but *where* he did it.
I’ve never considered committing suicide where my family would find my body.
Yes. To what you said.
I clearly remember hearing about Robin Williams … and the overwhelming jealously I felt. And that terrified me.
Sometimes it seems as if the monster is bigger than all the meds, counseling, meditation, etc, etc, etc could ever be.
Sometimes that tiny spark of light is painfully difficult to see.
Sometimes I wonder who are the brave ones.
I am so, so, SO sorry for your constant struggle. Please keep taking the meds and fight the monster. I pray for you and your family.
I was introduced to you bc of Mr. Williams’ death. It was the one bright spot in the sadness. Thank you for being a beacon of light for me. I LOVE how real you are.
This is the first time I have read anything from you. Honestly this is the finest article on depression I have ever read. You are a pure genius and capture the essence of the monster and, more importantly, how to immobilize the bastard. I am saving this and also forwarding to friends in distress. Thank you. Truly amazing.
And that means that you are important in the world….yes, very well written and thanks for sharing. I’m sure it will help more people than you know.
Yes, take the damn meds! Wait it out. Look for the light. Amen.
Yes!!!! Take the damn meds!!! Love it! I hate my “asshole brain” too!!! I love that metaphor…will keep that in my “anxiety took box”! Until I accepted that I have a monster too, and that lots of people do also, and it’s not a stigma to have a monster, I struggled immensely. I still struggle, yes, but after 10 years with panic disorder and all that it’s left in it’s wake, I have learned how to fight the monster everyday and how to keep him down to a dull roar. I will keep fighting until he is reduced to nothing, but I realize this may take my whole life. Thank you, thank you, thank you G for bringing light and hope to mental illness. I’ll never stop fighting. – love, my Badass Brain
I called a Christian health insurance company for a quote once. The rep told me taking antidepressants was rare, not normal. I was completely shamed. Those who shame you for taking meds, “they are two-legged men calling prostheses a crutch.” Spot on. Take those legs off and try to walk, right? Just take the meds…
I live with a monster every day. He’s huge, and he continues to get bigger and bigger with each meal I purge, or each day I restrict. Yes, I was shamed out of taking my pills. They gave me “mood swings,” and supposedly I “didn’t need them.”. This monster lurches in the dark, waiting for me to be vulnerable enough to attack again and again with criticism of my weight, my actions, and who I am as a person. He controls my life. He owns it. And he knows it. It is with a phenomenal therapist that I am beginning to learn how to fight back.
I remembered again how upset I was the day Robin Williams died. How frightened I felt. Bless you for all that you do.
Thank you so much for resharing this. I was really surprised at how strong my feelings were when I first heard the news, and even just the reminder that it’s been a year was enough to make me feel that thrill of fear again. Just yesterday my therapist and I talked about if I want to start thinking about cutting back to every other week instead of every week because I’m in such a good place. I’m so afraid that the second I declare myself good it will all come crashing down again and I’ll be in the darkest pit of depression ever. Because even when I’m at peace and strong, I’m pretty sure that the monster isn’t gone, just hibernating, and I’m always afraid of being too loud in my joy and waking him up.
You are beautiful xx
I’ve had my bipolar, suicidal monster “under control” with a wonderful cocktail of meds going on about 2 years now and it’s been absolutely joyful. Yes, I said it, I’m joyful. That’s how much difference the right treatment can make. I love life! Even saying this, however, my fear is that the monster is just beyond the fence, listening in, peeking, waiting like a prowler for the dead of night to break in and pin me down. I pray I never stop taking my meds, taking care of my body, and feeding my spirit. I pray that I am always stronger than the monster. I pray that I NEVER forget what the monster looks like.
If we are being honest… When I hear of someone committing suicide the first thing I think of is how lucky they are that their daily struggle is over! Honestly, it is exhausting this fight. But then I see the transfer of pain to everyone else who is left and I see how happy my kid is to see me after a week being at his dad’s and it buys me more time. I try to go off meds and I start all over again. The crying… The agonizing battle to get out of bed and perform the I don’t need help look…. Completely obliterates my energy
Just showing up makes you a hero. Just remember that, the next time you feel like you are not enough. You are. You have been a hero over and over and over again.
Melissa,
I share your perspective and believe it pertains to all people. Those with and those denying monsters. Perseverance in light of past and current troubles makes us stronger and more empathetic to others. We have dynamic experiences and only need to share to know we are not going it alone. Peace!
God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. 1 John 1:9, John 1:1-5.
Encouraged by each of you in your authenticity, vulnerability and courage. My security comes from my walk with the Lord and I hope that the truth in these verses are an encouragement to you as they have been and continue to be for me. #seektheLight
We all need to be heard. Not judged,sometimes not even looking for a reply. Just the knowledge that you are not alone, and yes, it is a rocky rough road,that seems to continue beyond the horizon. We travel, so we are moving. Step by step, we shall find the end of the road, Where Hope, has been waiting the whole time. Pick up some love, along the way, let the wind softly caress your face, like that of a loving friend. You are Strong, Wonderful and Never alone…… I joined Depressed Cake Shop LA. I have met a Great bunch of Geniune People. I feel loved and important in their Presence. -Margarita…. Never be afraid to reach out. You are Loved.
Lost my brother to suicide in February and it terrified me. Because of we four siblings he was the sanest. And that’s no hyperbole. It’s excruciating. We didn’t know. He was the strong one. We are bereft. People say, “it wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done.” But I dont believe that. We live in a “no- fault” society, so we tell ourselves we couldn’t have changed things so we’ll feel better. But I’ll never get over the pain of thinking that if any of us had just NOTICED, he might still be with us. Thank you for your honesty. I adore you
Ljd, I am so so very sorry for your loss. You are no more responsible for your brother’s death than you are for the monster that controlled him. I wish I had the words to share that would help heal your grief. Just know that we, as a community fighting with our own monsters, are grieving with you. We all feel it when one of us loses the fight. Praying for your peace and comfort.
Take your goddam meds. Yes.
I’m feeling it now mental health system is far from perfect. Im needing outpatient help but insurance doesn’t want to cover preventative help only when your severe for inpatient. Apparently I’m not severe enough for inpatient care. I’m sad and disappointed at the system and insurance we wonder why people do the things they do only not to realize the system failed us and we’re falling through the cracks. What to do then is the question….
Tammy:
I had the same experience, it took months but I kept calling/researching and finally went back for another evaluation. At the return evaluation, I admitted feeling helpless, hopeless, and acknowledged suicidal thoughts. At that point, insurance then saw me as a liability so they approved my inclusion in an outpatient program. Don’t give up
The worse truth:
It’s still okay.
thank you for sharing. I had a really hard time with his death too. then people put stupid comments on facebook (Peter Coyote said Williams should have taken a walk, or helped somebody else so that he would forget about himself, or – worst of all – sat still and faced the monster. right. like he could have done ANY of those things.) anyway, I reacted badly to the posts, then I made the decision to share my story on my facebook page. I was amazed by the number of friends who commented, publicly and privately, who were also suffering from depression. I didn’t know, just like they didn’t know about me. their responses led me to create a private group on facebook, where I introduced them all (they live all over the US), and told them that they might not know each other, but they all know me, and that it is a safe en place to share. it’s been good. they share, I share, and we support each other.
The worst part, the WORST part, is sitting there silently thinking “I wish that was me”. Because how can you say it out loud without everyone thinking you’re a terrible person? And worse, how can you say it without tacking on the disclaimer “I wish that were me, but not right now, not always, just sometimes, but at least that person had the courage and sometimes I am so mad at myself for not going through with it, and I wish that was me”. It’s never going to be okay. But it makes things a little better to learn that other people feel the same way.
Right there wth you.
Me too. I
WONDERFUL strengthening words to one at sea with her monsters.
Wow….so glad I found your page. Inspiring brave woman. THANK YOU. A beacon of light in this scariest of places Xx
Crying right now. The big bad monster is taking over my brain and it has friends call work supervisors. Taking the meds. It’s really hard but comforting to know that others are moving the monster aside.
The monster can always find minions to try to make itself worse. This is what I repeat in my head Psalm 90:14 “Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.” No matter WHAT time of day it is or the night.
We all need to be heard. Not judged,sometimes not even looking for a reply. Just the knowledge that you are not alone, and yes, it is a rocky rough road,that seems to continue beyond the horizon. We travel, so we are moving. Step by step, we shall find the end of the road, Where Hope, has been waiting the whole time. Pick up some love, along the way, let the wind softly caress your face, like that of a loving friend. You are Strong, Wonderful and Never alone…… I joined Depressed Cake Shop LA. I have met a Great bunch of Geniune People. I feel loved and important in their Presence. -Margarita…. Never be afraid to reach out. You are Loved.
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As I am, confused and mindless with only empty thoughts, I am a complete shell of who I was for most of my life. I can only feel for others, nothing for myself….I am a ghost in limbo (for imagery purposes). In constant awkwardness, I try (to hard most times) to be smart or funny/like-able, but am not and in return am the opposite. Nothing I do, anything I say, all is for not for I am not worthy of anyone’s “being” or “respect”. I have lost ALL enjoyment that I had found in life, everything is pointless (which, seriously sucks as living being). I dislike myself more than any other, complete hate, but others don’t see that complete level of disdain. I do not want to live as myself, but I do not want to die….although I am trying to naturally “cease to exist”. I am nothing living in a crazy world of disorder, with no one or nothing except my thoughts…A cloud that I can not and do not see passing by. Waiting game is taking to long.
Don’t feel alone. A lot of us are feeling the same way. There are safety in numbers. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But I feel better knowing someone else is plugging away at the rate I am. One foot in front of the next. One day at a time. This is LIFE. This is THE life. Enjoy the moments in between the worry…cause they’re there. They’re just harder to see. Search for the beauty in all things small and large. Sadness and happiness go hand in hand.
wow. These are my exact thoughts, Every. Single. Day. I have a young daughter, so I keep going.. no one knows how I’m feeling on the inside. Not even my husband. I’m ashamed for feeling the way I do.
Katy,
I’m so sorry you feel ashamed. Mental illness is a disease like diabetes. There are many ways to treat it. If you want to friend me on Facebook (Amy J. Schmid in Alexandria, VA) I’d be happy to tell you about what works best for me or just listen if you need some support.
We all need to be heard. Not judged,sometimes not even looking for a reply. Just the knowledge that you are not alone, and yes, it is a rocky rough road,that seems to continue beyond the horizon. We travel, so we are moving. Step by step, we shall find the end of the road, Where Hope, has been waiting the whole time. Pick up some love, along the way, let the wind softly caress your face, like that of a loving friend. You are Strong, Wonderful and Never alone…… I joined Depressed Cake Shop LA. I have met a Great bunch of Geniune People. I feel loved and important in their Presence. -Margarita…. Never be afraid to reach out. You are Loved.
what does “awaiting moderation” mean.. have i dont something wrong, im really sorry, i get ranty and just start rambling on without filter.
People Who Need Help Sometimes Look a Lot Like People Who Don’t Need Help – Feeling this today. Not even looking like i dont need help today though, i look like crap and if i went out in public im sure the universe would know i needed “help”! Best go take my tablets, best go for a run, best…. not sit around thinking about how i feel and do something because sitting with it never helps anything.
Thanks for always being here xx
Proud of you.
You’ve just followed me on Instagram and I think I’m going to cry or throw up or skip my happy pills for a few days. THANK YOU
I want a hug from you so badly, all your hug photos make me wince with jealousey because it looks like you give holding hugs, like the world can just stop for a few seconds because Glennon is here to be still with you. I want to hug you back too but I’m not a girl of much positive physical contact and I don’t know if I would know how to hug you.. That’s sounds REDICULOUS it’s just two arms around someone right.. So your not really missing out on anything I guess haha, but know that I would do my best to give you a ‘stop the world still for a few seconds hug’
Therapy is hard. I seem to make it harder than it needs to be, instead of crying and I know you get this, so instead of crying which is sadness and vulnerability and scaredness (it’s a word) I get angry, and then things get confusing, I’m like tangled in this net of feelings that I don’t understand because I won’t let myself feel the real ones so I’m there angry and not knowing what to do with the anger because it doesn’t really serve a perpous and I’m all confused and my therapist looks not confused which pisses me off because it’s like she knows something I don’t know and then my anger serves a perpous because I’m angry with my therapist for being ok with my perpousless anger and confusion but she looks at me softly and the anger goes and im grounded again and I sit there like what just happened. Therapy is hard.
Thank you for this post. While I do not have this monster inside of me as far as I know, this monster resides in family members and dear ones that I love. It has taken people I love far too often (three generations of family members so far). It has a brother and a sister that live inside the people that love and care about the ones who have that monster. We, too, have to realize that we are stronger than the monsters. We live in fear of our own monsters. That we will get the call that no one, no one wants to receive. I fight my monster and your’s by speaking up, like you have done here, and say I see you, please come with me to the light. I will sit with you. I will hold the light. I will give you your medicine. I will pray with you. I will be with you until the monster goes back into his corner and stops blocking the light. We can do this today because this monster is not going to get you today. I speak up so others will too. I speak up so people don’t feel shame for having a monster anymore than they should feel shame for having diabetes. I speak up so the monsters go back to their corner and stay there. Thanks for speaking up Glennon and giving a voice to those who don’t know how to speak up. You have saved some lives I’m sure by spreaking up. Carry on warrior.
Nicole, your words are so precious to me today. I needed them. Thank you. Is it okay if I print them so I can keep reading them? (Possible Trigger) I have not struggled with hurting myself or worse. But I fight my own depression & anxiety monsters and your words ring true.
God love you Nicole. You are doing good important work.
My dog died. He was the best, he listened to me all the time, I would start talking to him and he would sit there looking at me until I was done, he was always happy to see me and would come and lie under my feet when he went to sleep and we would run together. He was the best to run with, he would lead the way but would always stay in sight and would keep running back to me before running ahead again. He was the best dog. He was so happy and loved and I’m so lucky to of had him in my life. I remember your post about chases gold fish, I re read it today, he loved me perfectly, he’s way ahead of the newbies loving perfectly in heaven, he managed it here, you would of loved Jake dog, he would of loved you, until he realised you didn’t run and then he would of loved you a little less cus he was high matanence like that but he would of loved you all the same.
RR, I love your dog. He wouldn’t love me back so much (Driving makes me tired … so actually running?? Probably never.), but I love him all the same. I’m so sorry for your loss, and sending you love.
Thank you for loving my dog with me, he would of loved you too, he was so easily pleased you’d only need to smile at him once and he’d be your best friend for life. xx
RR, I am so sorry for the loss of your dog. He was also lucky to have had you! I hope when you are ready, you will consider adopting a shelter dog, one of those that has been unwanted and forgotten. They are forever grateful and good listeners too. I know.
Thank you. God brought me to this post today for a reason and I am so very very glad. Thank you for sharing your gift. Thank you for beautifully writing the words that were also on my heart that day and every other day. Thank you for being a light in the darkness. Thank you.
I got called stupid today when I disagreed with someone over God. Basically this guy called Stephen Fry who is like known for being clever or whatever that means, he was talking about what he would say to God if he ever got to heaven. He said he would tell God he didn’t want to get into his heaven because how could he allow such suffering and pain in this world and went on to list a bunch of horrible illnesses and events etc and I said to this person who was saying it was a great speech that “but what about the ocean” and they didn’t get it and I said but look how beautiful the ocean is, gotta give God some credit for that masterpiece. Anyway I got called stupid and they said they were embarrassed by me for not agreeing with Stephen Fry because he’s “cleverer” than me. I then got mad and threw a bunch of swear words around.. I have been know to maybe sometimes get a little bit sensative when people call me stupid. So anyway after Id calmed down I found that person again.. Yano the moron that called me stupid.. Yea that person, and I said listen to my unintelligent, stupid and embarrassing ideas. I see the pain, I see the suffering and the illnesses and deaths and hurt and I hurt and I suffer and I ask God why and I get mad at him and I think that’s ok, I think he’s ok with that because life’s hard. But what about the power we have to save lives? To cure the littlest from cancer and give them new eyes and hearts and skin? What about the ability we have to love and be loved? What about the ocean. What about God listening to us and excepting every single one of us. What about the most used phrase in the bible is do not be afraid. What if we are all born perfect but it’s human advancement that created greed and hate and war and cancer, maybe we created cancer with all the medication and products and poisons, maybe God is thinking wtf have you done to my perfect world. Or maybe he created poverty and pain to teach us and to prepare us for his heaven, maybe heaven is a place where we love perfectly and Earth is just practice. Maybe we need to know suffering to know what it’s like not to suffer. And God, real or not, but God would be looking down on the people who think that way and he would understand and he would still invite them all into his heaven and love them all equally. Maybe God is just a symbol of man for us to model and some of us are further away from that than others.
Maybe we can make a choice, we can blame God for the suffering or we can trust him and we can thank him for the beautiful ocean.
I’m not sure I believe in God, yet I think what you’re saying is BEAUTIFUL. And your thoughts and your words are FAR from stupid. I’ll think of them next time I’m looking at the ocean. Thank you.
YAH!!!!!
What about the freaking amazing, breathtaking, live giving, Powerful freaking ocean!?
I’m with You sister.
Don’t let those turkeys make you feel small or stupid.
Maybe they would be a bit less pissy if they spent some time with the ocean!
I’m having an anxious day. I feel really nervous and I don’t like it. I want the world to stop still just for a little while.
Keep going G, I promise to love your writing even if its crap ok!
You have saved lives G, seriously you save lives, you are amazing, that counts for something, it counts for so much actually.
Carry On Warrior, xx
I know your a book lover, but I don’t know if the film Iv seen is in book form so I’ll just tell you what the films called and hope you watch films! It’s called ‘Wild’ (I mean there’s like a billion films I fall in love with) but this one I only saw yesterday and it was beautiful in a painful way.
What if I forgave myself? I thought. What if I forgave myself even though I’d done something I shouldn’t have? What if I was a liar and a cheat and there was no excuse for what I’d done other than because it was what I wanted and needed to do? What if I was sorry, but if I could go back in time I wouldn’t do anything differently than I had done? What if I’d actually wanted to fuck every one of those men? What if heroin taught me something? What if yes was the right answer instead of no? What if what made me do all those things everyone thought I shouldn’t have done was what also had got me here? What if I was never redeemed? What if I already was?
This is from the film.. It’s hard to watch but it is so real and honest and isn’t that what we need in films, we don’t need disney films when marrige is the finish line and then we live happily ever after, this film balances out disney films.
Anyway the point is I think you’ll like it or get it or.. Just give it ago maybe if you have time one day
Wow, RR, just reading this post of yours is potentially life changing for me, even before I try to go watch the film. I will have to track it down and see for myself. What if everything I’ve ever done including all the “mistakes” from addiction and depression, were exactly as they were supposed to be??? What if I just forgave myself? Mind. Blown.
I just read something you wrote about marriage, it had a bit in it about sex, I wish you wrote more about that, no one writes about finding sex difficult, maybe most people don’t? I don’t know, because all people do is talk about great sex, about all the fantasies and foreplay and turning into a porn star in the bedroom. I struggle with sex, I find it confusing and like you i get angry about it, i always felt really damaged, as much as a cliche that that sounds, thank you for talking about it and being open about it. x
I swam really good tonight Glennon, I tried to learn to tumble turn too but I think I looked like a bull dog drowning.. In fact at one point a life guard jumped in the water and tried to pull me out, I let him do it and played along pretending I was drowing when really I was just trying to tumble turn because 1. It was less ebaraasing to actually be saved from drowing than it would of been to shout at him that actually that was just how I swim and 2. He was pretty hot and well… What can I say. This isn’t sounding like I swam good today, I imagine people reading this thinking geeze how is this girl possibly classing this swim session as a good swim, I wonder what she looks like on a bad day! But that’s not you, I see you clapping and cheering and holding up team Becky banners for me because I’m trying my best and I really liked rolly pollying in the water and that’s ok right! I know this is ok, you tell us so all the time, so yes I’m sticking with the I swam well today belief! Thanks Glennon, you make me a better swimmer, B
I had to do a safe place thing with my therapist the other day after a mini meltdown in her room.. So she asked me to sit in the chair and close my eyes and describe my safe place to her, I already knew before this stupid exercise I didn’t have a safe space.. Had she not been listening to me for the last year! Anyway she said I could make one up for the purpose this exercise was going to serve so I immediatly said the beach, I love the water, I love the smells and noises and the breeze and the stillness and aloneness and isolation, there is isolation on my beach, I’m not too socialable, I just love looking across the ocean, I love feeling like the beach is wrapping me up and excepting me in its complete perfectness, the beach is my church, it’s where me and God have chats in silence, it’s where we meet and discuss how I’ve been getting on, it’s where I forgive myself and get to feel no shame, the safest and most intimate relationship I have is with the beach.