Broken People

I remember early on in this journey of mine I could be heard saying "I'm not broken" all the time. Often to people who were suggesting therapy or marital counseling. It was some what of a battle cry of mine. Or perhaps more like a mantra. Well today is the day I come clean. I'm broken. And I hate it.

Last week my therapist suggested rather firmly that I go to a dr to get on antidepressants. So firmly that she picked up the phone during our session and made the appt for me and instructed the dr. to call her after he had seen me. I spent an hour confessing my dirty little secrets to yet another health professional. To his credt, he was accepting and kind and genuinely concerned for me. He put me on Lexapro and Ambien. And gave me a wonderful speech about dealing with the guilt that is tearing me up inside. Very nice man. If the meds work I will feel better about being awake and be too unconscious to care that I sleep on the couch in the living room.

I am broken. I have to keep saying to make sure I realize it. Not that there is any question. I keep getting these spells where I am walking through my life but it really isn't me... sometimes I forget what I am doing or going. Once last week I got into the car and realized that I didnt know how to drive the damn thing. Its utterly bizarre and unnerving. The rest of the time I am paralyzed. I sit and look at the chores needing to be done and never move a muscle. My beautiful garden has been taken over with grass and weeds. Highly symbolic I think.

I am broken. Not because I am a lesbian but because I dont know how I am going to move through my current life into the life I am supposed to live. I am scared of the journey into who I am. I am horrified at the blood and the tears that I will be responsible for, have to walk through the middle of before I make it to the other side.

I am broken. I am alone.