I had a hard weekend. No one thing was hard about it. I just continued to feel empty and lost. When I went to bed last night, I just cried and cried. Bob came home from work while I was crying and held me. He wanted to know why I was crying and for a long while I just couldn't tell him. Finally I came out and told him that the reason I was crying was because I wished I was dead. I wasn't getting better and couldn't see any good for me in the future and I just wished I wasn't here any more. He held me and prayed for, with, and over me until I fell asleep exhuasted. Before I fell asleep, he wanted to know if I should go to the hospital. I wanted to go, but I didn't want to sit in the emergency room so we agreed to wait until today.
Today I called all around...to my regular doctor, my therapist, a therapist friend, and my church to see if anyone could recommend a Christian based inpatient mental health facility. I did not get a call back until after 2. It was my regular therapist. In talking with her about my state of being, she said she though inpatient care was too drastic. So the plan right now is that this week I will see her daily with a re-evaluation on Friday as to whether or not I still think I need hospitalization. I admit I was a little bummed about this because I had psyched myself up for hospitalization. I loaded and started the dishwasher, cleaned out the fridge, cleaned the cat boxes, changed the sheets, and took a shower.
I am not sure how I feel about this right now. I need help. I am not getting better. I feel low and sad and empty and broken. I hope this time I can get the help I need.