Circle of Friends – Week 4

Each Sunday in May, I will be joining Raili @ Soul Gifts for Circle of Friends. Hop on over and join us!

I am actually a week behind, so for last Sunday’s prompt for friendship, Raili asked us to explore our “most unique experience of friendship.” What moment, memory, experience, person comes to mind?

The most unique experience I’ve had was with my friend JK. If soulmates truly exist, she was definitely mine. From the moment I met her, two things struck me deeply about her – she was stubborn and loyal. She would prove to be the most infuriating woman I’d ever met and the only one who would take the time to really get to know and understand me. She was funny, serious, a sponge for knowledge, creative and at times, came across as a know-it-all. And I loved all of those things about her. I didn’t have to wear a mask around her. She really got me completely. She allowed me to be my introverted self while she went out and made friends with everyone she came into contact with. She knew when to be chatty with me and when to allow silence to sit comfortably between us. Of all the friends I’ve ever had, she was the one I was most at ease with. I’d like to think that we would still be friends to this day if I hadn’t lost contact with her after my move to Oklahoma. Some days I still wish she was around. I miss her closeness and companionship.

The Sandbox Writing Challenge #40 — Survivor

I am way late in answering this question, but better late than never, right? For this week, Calen asks a very important question, one that has me questioning a lot about my past and present.

What makes you a survivor?

The best answer that I can come up with is… I am still alive. I don’t feel brave for weathering my storms. I don’t feel empowered for accomplishing some massive feat. And I am definitely no role model for others who’ve been abused (physically, emotionally and/or mentally) or suffered from crippling depression.

I wrestle with my demons on a daily basis. Some days I am grateful that I have the tools to keep myself from descending back into what I can only describe as a hell of my own making. Other days, I begin to slide and forget all about those tools as darkness surrounds me. I must have a whole team of angels working in my favor because something always catches me before I fall too far into the abyss. Lately, it would seem that they’ve been working in tandem as my demons are determined to recapture me completely.

I often ask myself if I made the wrong decision to go off of my medication nearly two years ago. For the most part, I’ve been fine. Just short bouts of melancholy for the better part of a year. But for the past six months, I’ve begun to notice a trend. The short bouts are getting longer and it isn’t just melancholy, it’s definitely depression now. Not to mention, my OCD is getting much worse, to the point of agitation. Fear has become a constant companion. I am not sure I could handle another serious break-down.

To me, a survivor is one who has faced an obstacle and come out a winner. I’m still facing obstacles and I haven’t won anything yet. So I don’t really consider myself a survivor. I merely exist on the brink of chaos.