Thursday, December 10, 2015


I am feeling reflective.  Maybe it's the holidays or the year drawing to an end.

I see my MD tomorrow.  Checking on the old and figuring out the new.  This will be the first time I have seen him since he put me on Wellbutrin.  I know he will ask about my mom and about how I am doing.  I can't help but reflect back to the absolute pain and helplessness I was going through just a few short months ago.

I have had this image in my head.  One I must have seen in a movie before.  There is a person who is about to be executed right in front of his loved ones.  I see his face.  So much dialogue in the silent glance he offers his family.  He is pained.  There is a look of terror on his face that is an absolute heart-stopping pale faced terror.  He has no control over all that is taking him over and he knows that this darkness is taking him quickly.

His words attempt to reassure his loved ones, "it's ok".
But, his face.
He is pleading for mercy, pleading for help, pleading for his life.

I have seen this image.  And, it was me.

Absolute terror that the darkness was taking me quickly.  I reflect back to how I felt a few months ago and I see a woman pleading for help.  Pleading for mercy.  Pleading for her life.  I could not allow my loved ones to know just how far that terror took me, I would never have allowed them to feel that same helplessness and darkness but that didn't mean I didn't desperately want to be saved.  I never once thought of harming myself but I always feared that I would be taken so far away that I would never return.

That image is ingrained in my head.  I remember the fear peaking out a few times.  Crying out, begging for help, no longer able to bottle up the panic.  Very few times, I could no longer say, "it's ok" because I no longer knew what "ok" felt like.  Panic attacks should only last for moments.  This lasted MONTHS.

My face.
Would plead for

I see that image.  Often.  And, I am so sad for that girl.  The isolation she felt even in a room full of love.  The pleading in her face.  Hoping someone might be able to save her.

I am so thankful that I journaled throughout.  Some posted, some kept private, but all poured out of my breaking soul.  I never buffered my thoughts when I wrote.  Looking back, I see how lucky I am to have had that little moment.  That one opportunity to run.  To get away from the attack and yell for help.  I had someone looking for me.  A few someone's in fact.  

Yes, I am feeling very
And loved.


  1. Such a raw, honest, beautiful that will give hope to glad you are where you are today.
    hugs abby

  2. Abby, I wrote this with the intent to post but I had decided that I wouldn't allow comments. I posted with the comments off initially. I wanted this post to stand on its own. I love comments, need them in fact, I crave that connection with all of you who are like all of me. But, I wanted this post to be pure and without expectation.

    Then....I read it.....and re-read it....over and over. I read it and realized that there were bloggers who had posted their own raw, personal struggles and in my darkest moments I felt like they might "see" me if I could just tell them how much I needed to read what they wrote.

    I have no expectations. No grandiose ideas on saving the world. But, I want anyone reading this, who NEEDED to read this today to know that I see them. They matter. And, that they too have someone (maybe a lot of someones) looking for them. They just need to let someone hear their cries for help.

    Thank you for the kind words Abby.
    XOXO Pearl

  3. Wow Pearl, such a beautiful and honest post, I'm so glad you shared this and have no doubt reading this will help others that are struggling. I'm glad you journaled, getting it all out really does help.

    Most importantly, I am so glad you are in a much better place now and hope all went well with the doc.


    1. Journaling was so helpful! It is difficult to read back through some of it but I need it. Thank you Roz, Dr apt went well =]

  4. I have tried several times to write a comment and I just don't think my words can do it justice. The pain that you describe...that is how I felt after the death of my sister. I, like you, am thankful for the people that helped me find my way out of that darkness.

    Love to you<3

    1. Thank you lg. I figured to those who have never felt that- they may think it sounds crazy. But for those of us who have, that panic, misery and fear is visceral and we never forget it. Your words never cease to amaze me- what you said exactly the right thing =)