Overwhelmed with Doubt

 Life is still kicking my ass. I feel lost and stuck and confused, overwhelmed with doubt. I am questioning every single thing that goes thru my mind.

I have been going to therapy for 4 years now and have worked extremely hard. What have I gotten from it, what has changed for me in my life? I’ve been running that question over and over for the past couple weeks, trying to figure out what’s happening with me right now.

I don’t feel better about myself at all. In fact if I’m being honest, I feel like more of a failure and a loser as a person than I ever have in my lifetime. All the awareness, all the things that have been uncovered with peeling back my layers, has only made so many parts of me feel like the piece of shit I’ve always believed I was. 

At first I was hopeful that I might find ways to make changes, updates in my system that are so needed. I’ve found nothing like that at all. Instead it seems like I have to discover my own answers, my own ways to help myself. 

Don’t get me wrong, I like going to therapy where I find safety and support at times, but I am tired. Tired of hours of being interviewed but no input, no results, no real answers. Tired of being hurt by the actions and words from people who are supposed to be helping. I take full responsibility for where I am right now; I’m not looking to place blame. So why do I keep trying? Because where else do I find any answers? Where else do I find hope? If I knew of any thing else to do I would be trying it. 

I am doubting everything- every choice I make, every word I speak, every action I take. I’m so disengaged in caring about myself. I haven’t written more than a sentence or 2 in my journal for many weeks. The past few weeks I haven’t really been very involved with my therapy, with my healing, doing zero work between sessions, just having light conversations. I haven’t used my cards or had any parts conversations and all that makes me feel like I’m failing therapy but trust was lost and safety interrupted and I don’t know how to restore it. In some ways it feels like I’m giving up and I have no clue what to do about it. Do I even want to? 

Lost and stuck. I have very little confidence that I can be successful in making much change for myself. It feels like I’m just resigning myself to this is as good as it is going to get but that’s just not acceptable. Another internal system conflict which won’t resolve because there are no good choices, no acceptable to me options and I don’t know where I will find any. Instead the war in my head will just continue to torture me. 

The darkness of hopelessness. A place all too familiar for me living with depression. Oh how many times I have visited the basement, my dark place on the edge of the ledge. I wonder how many times I will find my way out. Is the day coming that I won’t have the ability to take those steps and rise once more? A scary thought. 

I get so frustrated with the cycles of depression. The toxic positivity of statements out there, the gold standards, the affirmations- all so incredibly annoying to me these days. I have tried so hard to believe some of it- that 1% of something is better than 0%, that all progress is worthwhile, it all counts and adds up- but today that all just seems like a big bunch of bullshit to me. 

To make progress, start to feel good, feel hopeful, and then my friend Lola, my depression, kicks me right back down, at times lower that I was before. And I have to start over and take those steps once again to even try to get back to where I was. How is this progress of any kind? How is this worthwhile or helpful to keep repeating the pattern? I never get anywhere but instead spend all my time and energy trying to get back to where I was. It’s disappointing and so discouraging for this to continue. That’s why I call it a cycle because it just keeps repeating. Round and round like a carousel that never shuts off, following the same path, over and over. I can’t trick my brain that keeps searching for answers. 

Will I ever feel good again? What does that even mean? What does that look like? What does that even feel like? The Squad is enjoying what they are saying is a pity party. Is it so wrong to just want to find some space in my life that isn’t dark, that isn’t painful. It’s not a mystery to me why Numb Helga, dissociation, is a friend. 

I’m tired. I’m feeling so raw and unsafe. How do I trust anyone if I can’t even trust myself currently. Internal conflicts with pressure and even more unsolicited accusations and attacks coming from the outside too. 

Exposed is another good word I’ve been feeling. Sensitive. Unprotected. Tender. I don’t see where I can go to hide, or how to get out of the storm. Options. I’m almost out of them. 

Where can I go

What can I do

Caring is optional

Hope seems so lost

I don’t know what’s next. 

Any clues? 

Still trying but the desire is fading. Alone. Isolated. Invisible. Exhausting. There’s nobody coming. Time for a nap.

11.19.25

I saw this picture a few years back and the word doubt just seemed to fit for me. Doubtful Mickey. 

Where Do I Feel Safe

Safety

Safety and feeling safe is something I struggle mightily with. I recently lost that safe feeling within my therapy and not sure how to find it again. Some parts of me are so incredibly sad and grieving, hoping to find a way but we are not really sure what that looks like or how it will feel. Many other parts feel so disengaged, not wanting to share or believe anything will ever change. It’s all seems to be about how much hurt am I willing to endure to keep trying. Trust is absent. 

I saw this series recently and wanted to share it here. This is what was written to go with these:

The ideas in this carousel come from clinicians and researchers who changed how we understand the human mind. Across different eras and approaches, they all arrived at a shared truth: people grow when they feel safe enough to be honest. Their work spans humanistic therapy, developmental psychology, trauma research, neuroscience, existential therapy, and relationship science. But together, they form the backbone of what modern therapy considers essential for healing: acceptance, steadiness, connection, curiosity, trust, and repair.

Feel free to click on the picture for a larger and clearer view

 Safety. Please let me find you again. It’s so hard without you. 

11.17.25

Life Has Been Kicking My Ass

 Struggling

Life has been kicking my ass lately in so many ways. Just when I think I’m catching a break, finding some space, some inner peace, it all goes away and here I am back in the darkness of hopelessness.

This week a young man in Dallas took his own life. He was a 24 year old second year player for the Dallas Cowboys. On Monday Night Football he recovered the ball in the end zone, scored his first NFL touchdown and 80,000 fans cheered wildly as he celebrated. Thursday evening after a police chase for a traffic violation, he took a gun and ended himself after calling his family to say goodbye.

This was extremely heartbreaking to read because I get it. I fully understand the dark places your depression mind can take you and the lies it can tell you. I’ve been living in that darkness with visits to the edge; I just haven’t taken the final leap, selected my final option.

To me, this young man’s tragic end to his life speaks volumes about the stigma of mental illness; how many suffer but few reach out to ask for help. Most people don’t get it because they haven’t experienced it themselves or just don’t see what’s going on inside someone with mental health struggles because outwardly it seems like all is great in their lives. The thing is, we get good at masking, pretending instead of sharing or reaching out for help. For many, the stigma of being seen as having mental health issues can be seem harder than reaching out. Instead it’s simply I’m fine. 

He seems to have had it all. He played football at a small college and he dreamed of being in the NFL. His hard work paid off when the Dallas Cowboys drafted him and he signed a contract for 7 million dollars. He was an active part of the team. He had a family and girlfriend that loved him and supported him. He had all his team mates and the entire Cowboys organization. He had plenty of money, seemingly living his dream, his best life. But today he is no longer alive. The stories and lies his brain told him overwhelmed him and he chose that final option. 

It’s hard for people to understand how the darkness of depression makes you unable to see or hear anything but the lies of the illness. It doesn’t matter how intelligent you are or if you’re a CEO, bus driver, or NFL player. You may intellectually understand but it still doesn’t matter. Sometimes being told how much we have to live for or how good our lives are just makes it worse. 

Sadly I don’t see the stigma of illness getting better in this current atmosphere of lack of care and concern for our fellow humans. It’s the same type of judgment many of us are subject to when we are given a health diagnosis like fibromyalgia or dysautonomia. I get not wanting that stigma, prepared to get the eye roll from the physicians, told it’s all in your head because they can’t seem to find anything else. So you give up and just stop asking, stop going to doctors. The darkness gets darker. See my recent post about chronic illness. 

Reaching out for mental health issues can be so difficult  and there is no guarantee that therapy will be helpful either. The mental health industry has it's good and bad. Unfortunately there are way to many "quick fixes and gold standards" that aren't actually helpful and can and does cause much harm to many. There are a ton of modalities out there and who knows what will actually help. Finding the right assistance for what you need can be very difficult; I am speaking from personal experience here.

This young mans death reminded me that for me and so many others who battle mental illness and depression that it doesn't matter how much money you have, how successful your career is, how much love and support you might have, it still might not be enough to let the light in when the darkness surrounds and overtakes you. 

Life has been kicking my ass lately. I feel so alone. I am so tired, so discouraged, and so very lost in my stories that I wonder if it's all slipping a way. For people with depression, life can be a daily battle simply to stay. 

24 years old. I hope he found the peace that all of us living in that darkness so desperately crave. RIP. 

11.8.25