730 Days


730 days, I have been thinking your name.

There is a dark spot on my heart.

A sadness that will never go away

We miss you each and every day,

since you threw a life away,

stuck in the darkness of the grave.

I understand the lonely road you walked

In silence you fought.

The pain so deep, so hard,  you could not escape.

I’m sorry that rainy day, I didn’t stop and stay.

I’m sorry I didn’t take the time, to talk and listen by your side.

How alone you must have been, with no friend.

I once passed you by – I didn’t know you would be soon out of time.

I see you in my dreams in that chair, with your book, and that look.

I didn’t know you were walking a line .

I passed you by.

Godly Women Get the Blues ? ? ?


Women work hard, play hard, love their families, love their God, but sometimes they get the blues.   Blues maybe that is a mild term. Sometimes Godly women can become down right depressed.  Depressed is a mild word, sometimes women can fall into dark holes of despair.  When one falls into that dark hole what do you do?  I have been struggling with depression  for more than a year now.  I didn’t  realized till just  before Christmas 2010.   It was not a  crisis of faith.  If anything God does draws closer to you but the noise of negativity and darkness can be overwhelming. I never knew what was happening till I had my breakdown.  I slowly started to realize what what happening to me.  I was depressed, I was ashamed, I was a women that was incontrol that was out of control. I was afraid, terrified is a better word.  I had no one to turn to; at lease I thought I didn’t.

I wanted to start this blog as a record of my journey through depression, the doctor appointments, the medications and a deeper relationship with God, the tension of friendships, the relationships with my kids and husband and how they are effected. Some of what you read is funny, sad, even scary, but all of what you read is true.

I also want to help those who are going through the same thing.  When friends are too busy to talk, and the darkness seems to close, I hope that you will come search this out. There are answers to the questions about what depression is about, there is hope, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Please read on you’ll find anxious moments, you’ll find answers to prayer, you’ll hear stories of deep despair, sadness, addictions and failures.  And maybe you’ll find hopefully a way to cope and way to hope and a way to find peace.

Monday….


Still here. Last night i took my anxiety meds and it manages to help me sleep.   I finally fell asleep, managed to get a few hours.  It was a tough day yesterday, i managed to spend some time with my daughter yesterday, which was nice she thought I was a little stressed out.  When I look at her,i think back to when i was at my worse with my depression, when she was in high school and really needed a Mom, and i was so messed up, so trapped into my own horror, starving myself and cutting, those years are gone for ever and I can not make them up. And i realize they are gone and to move on but the quilt is killing me.  When my failures and guilt mound up, it puts me back to that place where pain on the surface feels like it can release the pain on the inside.  Then I wonder how did i get back here.  So today, Easter Monday, i am alone at home all day.  I  am still in bed. If i stay here i may curl into a ball and never get out of bed.  I have to keep up apperances, make the bed, do the laundry, finish my taxes, these are the things that must be done. If my husband comes home he will know something is wrong. He will worry. I cant let him know the depth of my pain.  I hug him lots cause if i hug, he cant look me in the eye and see the things i am thinking about.  So for now, i am pushing aside the Stuff will get up work out at some insane work out to punish my body and carry on.  Tomorrow will be better, i will be at work.

Till next time

Good Friday


So here we are at Good Friday, I can’t say I participated at all this lent season.  Normally my husband and kids give up something, go to the services and then attend the holy week services. We have done nothing.  I didn’t go to any of it, even Palm Sunday.  But today I went to Good Friday.  I have been so full of anger of late, and fear.  I am annoyed by the people at church,   and fearful to open up my heart to God or his word. Haven’t been picking up my bible.  I look at it and am afraid to open it.  I have been pushing things aside.  The pain of depression, the anxiety feelings, responsibility, I only deal with simple things.  When it comes to the kids I have been pushing their problems on my husband.  I haven’t been able to cope.  At work I am great, can handle the happenings in stride, and take responsibility by the horns and ride it.  I have been organized, a leader, efficient.

Maybe that is where I shine because I don’t have to deal with me.  I would like to go hide somewhere and try to sort out the feelings.  I have been crushed with guilt, sadness, regret.  I have been pushing it aside, its easier to not deal with it.  I don’t read my bible because it will cause me to think. I spend my time reading pintrest, facebook, flipboard.  They are short pieces requiring no deep thinking.  and I learn how to DYI something or other.

I have been feeling not bad, I have my sense of humour back, I have been doing things like cooking and cleaning, exercising.  I work out 6 days a week, it has become my therapy, or obsession maybe a better word. I had’t been takening my anxiety meds much, lately i havebeen using them to sleep,  still on my depression meds, taking them regularly. So from a physical health point of view- I am in great shape.

I just have to try to deal with the mental parts.  I have been good for the most part and I guess what may be coming to a head is the pushing aside.  I haven’t been reading my bible because I am afraid it may open up the door for the darkness to creep in and challenge the light I am thinking about.  Keep all doors closed – preventive medicine , at least that is what I am thinking.  But that door could also open up healing, but I am too afraid to open it.  Instead I want to hide.  So I fight that feeling.  I still feel the need to self destruct, to harm me may release the pain.  So I fight that too, and the shame that comes with that.

The one thing that really hurts me is that my children have moved out.  They are good kids don’t get me wrong.  They are both doing the right things we want them to do. Working, getting a post secondary education, but not necessary living Christian lives.  They have significant other in their lives, and I know they are not platonic and I tried to impress upon them what God wants and what I wanted for them as they grew up.  But somehow I failed that so I deal with that guilt of failure. How can I be an example of Gods love when I can’t even train up my children?

Writing this is the most thought I have put into these things. I can feel my heart pounding and the physical symptoms of my invisible illness. Today I am trying to hold my own. Today i am. Smiling as i cook easter dinner, but what that is really hiding is a heart that wants to hide , cry and be alone to release all the sbame and pain. That isnt going to happen today.

My fear that this will swallow me and i wont be to hold on, to what ever i have right now.

Push it down


Its been a while since I have written.    In other sites I have written lots but maybe it is time to get back to this site.

 

The Depression.  It never leaves, it hangs on, even on the good days. Success in fighting the illness is a comparison of good days to the bad ones.  At this moment in time the good does out weigh the bad, but the bad are a reminder –  a little slap in the face that says “Yes I am still here and I have a darkness cloak I would like you to wear again” .

So my plan lately is to ignore the feeling, well I hid the feelings it is rare for me to have alone time. The kids have moved away and I hate it.  My son lives too far away  and my daughter lives close but seems far.  My husband is coping with my illness by not leaving me alone.  He grocery shops with me, we do everything together.  ( its not that bad) but I don’t get a chance to deal with the bubbling of emotions I have.  If I do get some alone time its late in the evening and probably at a time I should not be left alone.   Like I said most of the time I have been good, its just I have been pushing so much down.  Keeping it to myself is better than worrying people. My husband worries and to be honest – what can people do. I am not where I was, I have put my friends and family through hell – and they only know half the hell I really did go through.

I haven’t been involved in volunteering or bible studies cause I don’t think I can handle it.  If I were to be honest, in a study you learn about what God wants and look at your life and try to assimilate it.  I don’t want to learn.  I am at a stale mate in my mind that I don’t want to solve.  I do believe in God his love and forgiveness but I don’t trust him.   Ya those two statements don’t go together so I will explain.  When I was born my grandmother died 3 weeks before I came into this world.  When I was pregnant with my son, my husbands father died.  When my daughter was born my father died 4 months later.  I don’t like how God gives and takes, I am unable to process this I am unable to get past this train of thought.

I have wrestled with the “sins of the father” and our family curse for a long time now.  The past 2 generations  have been grandfatherless.  When I was having my children I thought ” Great my Dad is a strong healthy man he was going to make up for what I didn’t get”  When my father in law died my Dad was going to be the Grandfather of all Grandfathers, he told me he was going to make up for the loss of the other.  He was hit by a car, and a few short years later my whole extended family fell apart, and probably will never be put together.  So it gets stuffed down, a little farther down the well.

As I get older and fight new fights health wise. Is this my fate? Am I the next casualty of my family curse.  I believe but I don’t trust, is that even faith?  I have been thinking back to my darkest days with my depression the cutting, loathing, the week I spent trying to figure out a bible verse and had scribbled all over a piece of paper that I was sure held all the answers. But when I sat down with it – to discuss it I realize just how crazy I had become.  I should have been in the hospital.  This is not “why does God allow bad things to happen”  This goes beyond that. Bad things happen because people are broken and want to do bad things.  Or put themselves in a situation where bad happens.

This blog is about as far as I have gone in thinking about this.  Stale mate is where I sit right now, to move beyond that I am not sure how.

So I will push it down, deeper in the hole, where it stops, nobody knows.

till next time . . . . .

 

Bubble


godlywomengettheblues

I was trapped in a bubble. It snuck up on me, from a cynical dirty place. The bubble is a live coming upon the me and encased. Its slimy film trapped in the voices and thoughts of the unfinished dark and dead. The swirls of dark and dust, that stuck in the eye. It sucked out the good it sucks out your fluid of life replaced by the ash of dirt and slush. The bubble is held in the hand of God it is a tiny dirty bubble in the majesty of God’s hand. Swirling in its dark madness. The bubble wears thin and breaks. A skeleton of what was, stands there in naked shock. Unable to open the eyes to see the light full of crud and filth. The skin, white, pale with sickness. Warms to the sun. The dead around the feet sprouts into green. The voices fade…

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Hello Again


Its been awhile since I have written. I am still here, still working, still ill, but I am still here fighting the good fight, or at least trying to, faking my way along. I have been dealing with some mental illness issues around me and felt a need write about it.
Christmas 2014 has just passed and for me Christmas isn’t considered the best season, mainly because my depression started at about the same time 4 years ago and the two have manifested themselves together. This year I set my expectations to zero for Christmas fun especially where my extended family was concerned and they did not disappoint. As for my family, we had a wonderful time. Both kids are off to post secondary education so it was nice to have everyone home and we made the most of it. I am smiling as I write this, it was great.
The middle of December was awful. As many of you know I work for a high school, one of our students killed herself. We usually have certain students at risk on our radar, she wasn’t one of them. In the office you get a disconnect between the student and parents. I knew the girl, but didn’t realize I knew the parents till they walked into the office two days later. The father walked in and I just froze- we looked at each other for what seemed like a eternity, I walked over and took his hand, we said nothing to each other just looked into each others eyes as tears escaped. Forever and a day I will never forget that moment, those eyes, the silent communication we had, the depth of the emotion we shared. This wasn’t just some guy, he was a Muslin man, and I a Christian women we shared a moment. Two days later when he came back to collect the contents of his daughters locker, I told him that my family was praying for his family, he took my hand in both of his and thanked me for our prayers.
I cleaned out the locker. Inside I found her journal, I read part of it. It wasn’t that much different from my own journal from my darkest moments. She expressed her shock at writing the words she was writing, how much pain she felt, the depth of her hurt, and in the progression of her words I could see the line between life and death coming. I too have seen that line, she crossed it. It was almost too much to bear, yet oh so familiar, that was the frightening part. I thought about not giving it to family, but that was not my decision to make. I prayed there would be some comfort in their daughters last words.
In the meantime as I was dealing and processing that part of this tragedy, our crisis team showed up from the board at the school. These nearsighted, small minded, experts who are to be there to help, pat the hands of friends of the girls, and make up assumptions and blame who or what they could to make sense of a horrible death. They bumbled around me, as I sit in the middle of the office and my anxiety and anger burned as each passing moment went by that they were there. You can’t love cancer away, how did they think they could love mental illness away, thus why it is called an illness. There is no sense to make of it, death was a side effect of the illness the same way vomiting is a side effect of a medication.
The same week, we had a girl, who was known to be on, what the VP called “undiagnosed medication for mental illness”, get into an altercation with a male student. What happened I don’t know, I know the guy is not a nice guy, the girl was very upset by whatever this guy had done. The girl ends up in the VP’s office, the guy in another office. The girl is yelling because she is upset, the NPU officer and her partner come in. They were not called in, they just happened to be visiting which they do from time to time. They hear the yelling, they ask who the girl is, they are told, they know she suffers from depression they step into the situation. The girl gets more agitated as the police walk into the office. The police start with the ‘Hey do you want to go back to the hospital?’ They Girl ‘I am not going back there’ they restrain her, she freaks more. Hour and half of talking yelling and crying goes on. The Sargent gets called in, he isn’t putting up with anything from this girl he starts yelling at her. She continues to scream ‘ I am not going to the hospital, just leave me alone to calm down’ we are up to two and half hours, EMT get called, they sedate her because she knows what is going to happen now she loses it. They take her from the school in an ambulance as the school looks on. It’s been a month and a half, we haven’t seen her since. She is traumatized, I am traumatized from almost 3 hours of back and forth and all the time wondering if at some point I could have stepped in and just let her have her space. Meanwhile the Sargent, officers, and administration think they have dodged a bullet in having this girl taken to the hospital just in case she did something unmentionable to herself. ! ! Like she won’t do it now? Really! If they knew I suffered from major depression how long till I get carried away, I call my husband I tell him don’t let them take me away, my husband is now worried.
This just gives all the more reason to why we hide our illness. Why do we feel the need to deny our illness, hide our demons from anyone? Because people do not understand and they do not see it an illness, and sometime we get upset, and sometimes we need to kick something. I think this girl needed to be taken to the gym and kick a box around to work out her frustration and she would have been fine. or at least better. People can make us angry but because we are angry and someone who sees us and knows we have an illness like depression automatically thinks the person is unstable and incapable and being pissed off now becomes a breaking point and seen as a breakdown. The next thing you know you are sedated and on your way to the hospital, while everyone else is wringing their hands saying see I knew she couldn’t’ handle it.
So we hide it. We pretend we are ok, we admit to nothing. On the bad days people think we are bitchy or cold. You are just trying to hold it together. Some people take your coolness as dislike and in their minds manifest it into hatred. It makes you feel more like a freak. You take that pain and use it against yourself cause you are a freak now, in your own mind, you don’t eat, you cut yourself, you try to bury that pain deeper. The self-punishment takes that pain and puts it on the outside, that way you know it’s real and not a figment of your imagination. You have an illness that is as real as cancer, but society sees it as different and it’s the shame of it that pushes it down till you can’t take it. The pain, shame, ridicule that makes you go over the edge and you become forever branded as crazy, branded as different. Side effects of the disease.
A month goes by. Our VP’s sister-in-law kills herself. She bought a hand gun. She leaves behind two girls and husband, and a family who didn’t see it coming. The VP comes into the office I give my condolences, there is only he and I in his office and he begins to cry, I hug him. I have a 6 foot something man crying on my little 5 foot 3 shoulder asking me ’ what the hell was she thinking’. What do you say? I told him the love she had for her family couldn’t out weigh the hatred she had for herself. I told him my husband and I am praying for him and his family. I don’t think he heard anything I said but the soft tone of my voice.
During the past 4 years I think there was one time that sticks out that I realized I had gone crazy. I had asked my pastor for a meeting, I had to ask him some questions. I had a bible verse I needed to understand it. Understanding it was key, if I understood it all things would be better. I was manic.
I asked him if all things in his office were confidential, he said yes of course. I looked at the floor, I could see the line, literally I thought the line between life and death was on the floor, I had a piece of paper covered with the bible verse that was key to my survival, and sanity on it, all over the paper was scribbled my questions my thoughts my answers and more questions. As I looked at the paper, the line on the floor, I began to cry. I could not articulate a question, I didn’t know why I had come, and I saw for the first time what the paper had become. This crumbled, scribbled, messed up piece of incoherent rants. My pastor sat there quietly waiting, he was kind and let me deal with it. I am not sure if he understood the gravity of it, from my mind’s eye. I knew I needed more help, I went back to my doctor.

I called a psychologist this week. My heart won’t stop pounding; sometimes I can’t catch my breath, sometimes I don’t sleep. I have been taking my anxiety meds on a regular basis over the past week to keep my nerves calmer. I knew I was slipping before Christmas, now I know things are going astray. I go to my doctor on Wednesday. It’s been two years that I have been on an Anxiety Clinic’s wait list to go into group therapy as per my psychiatrist recommendations. It makes you wonder – why so long. How does one get off the list? If you are in the group do you die before you get off of it? Do you have to wait for someone to die so you can move up on the list? They called 6 months ago to ask if I wanted to remain on the waiting list. Really! They left a message on my answering machine, said if it was yes remain on the list, call this number leave your name and number and I would be left on the list.
And people ask what the hell was she thinking?
I feel I need to go to a ‘AA’ style meeting. You know ‘hi my name is_____ and I am crazy’ everyone says ‘Hi we are crazy too’ I know that was cynical, but surely you realized by now this rant is a mixture of truth, cynicism and humor. And the beat goes on.

Till another time…………..

Final Post – Revision Complete May 2, 2014


I just received notice from my blog site that I have been blogging for 3 years now, 231 blogs, 231 times I opened my life for all to see, critique, shrug off or laugh at, or my greatest hope – understanding. A long time, a lot of time, effort, emotion, and pain has gone into all these posts. If you have read them I hope they helped you, provided insight, maybe gave you understanding on how the mind works. The phrase “it has a mind of its own” usually used to describe things that act up seems to fit here.

The mind is a strange, terrifying, and wonderful place. I can not tell you how in this one small blog the places my mind has taken me. I am off one of two anti depressants, and the weaning off process has been horrific. I regressed, but more that, I am not returning to the drug that may help me. The drug took away my power to feel, to cry, to think, I was numb. I now know the extent that the drug pushed down the feelings, demons, and the emotions everyone needs to function in society. I don’t want to be on this drug and even though the demons are back and the fear has returned, I must, have to, get beyond it. I am after all, alive. With that statement comes a tiny little bit of hope.

I was thinking of courage and weakness today. For me .. … and I mean only for me and my screwed up thought process, to die (and you know I mean take my life) is easy. This may be hard for the normal person to hear or think of, but depression leads the mind from black and white thoughts to gray. Depression and the darkness that comes with it blurs the lines of dark and light, death and life, hope and fear. It is easy just to walk away from the pain, the tears, the demons. To take your own life is easy, and courageous at the same time. To do it takes courage, to decide to do it, is easy. Would I??? No. But the depth of the demons you fight, the struggle to keep face in this world, smile at the stupid jokes the boss tells, don’t let ‘that’ person get under your skin, don’t cave to the sinking feeling you have, or let someone’s smart ass, put down, sink you deeper into the hole you are already sinking into. If major depressed people didn’t have to put up with people – stupid people – life would be easier. What keeps me from attempting it? Who says the thought hasn’t crossed my mind? Sadly, I have stood on that line between pain and no pain- that is what the depressed person sees when they look at that line. The deep hurt that will not stop, the demons whispering in your ear, and the pain loved ones can’t love away -OR the desire to feel nothing. I have gone for my ‘feel nothing’ through alcohol. There have been nights when I have felt, if I drink enough I will not feel, and Yes I was wrong that doesn’t help it amplifies, and leaves you feeling worse off than before. But to do it – cross that line is not something I can not do to those that I love. The pain I would cause is worse than the pain I want to kill, and the sun will set and moon will rise and fall and another day will come again. That is the small point of hope I hold onto, God will give us another day, and the next day can’t be as bad as this day.

So at this point of reflection. The first few years was getting over the shock that this happened to me, I was bubbly and happy, positive, in control of my life. I worked, I was confident, I volunteered, I made a difference in my church, my community, my kids schools. I sat on School councils, Church council, taught sunday school (and loved it) played music at church started a coffee club in my neighbourhood to connect stay-at-home Mom’s together. As I have read over the first few months of my blog, I can see the shock of what I was experiencing. And the crumbling of the person I was. I am very self conscious of myself — not in a conceded way, I was bullied in school and I need to have everything looking good, be in control otherwise it gives people a chance to criticize. So to lose my ability to be in control, to not be able to rely on my brain to guide me, was a huge blow.

When the shock of it all wore off; somewhat, and I was in the process of the doctors, drugs, researching, and reading. I was surprised at the system a mentally ill person goes through. First they throw drugs at you, then some therapy, (paid for by private funds) then if you go through OHIP you are left to long waiting lists, one of which I am still waiting for the anxiety clinic to call with an opening. The red tape, the frustration, how do you keep people alive- give them that hope? As I made some headway into living with my depression, some things changed, I began to cope, make strategies to live, function. I desperately miss that old person, she was funny and more carefree and I feel I will never see her again. At work I am afraid and still afraid of being found out that I suffer from depression. I hate the idea of being thought of as crazy- but I struggle on. There is a definite line between kids suffering from depression and adults. I see it all the time at work, we have so many Mental Health policies for the kids at the school —BUT — be an adult, it is a different thing. After my previous post about my ‘career suicide’ the bosses have stopped tip toeing around me but when I am unstable they notice it more and its becoming a – “oh ya, can’t handle the job” attitude. I can handle the job- actually when I am handling the job, busy and juggling the work I feel better and I am darn good at what I do. And this is my biggest issue about having major depression…..they think you can’t function- at anything.

So today — what is the point. I suffer from depression, I am paranoid, The sadness is there, I am struggling, the demons are still here, they tell me horrible things about me, like, I not important, I have no friends, I am at best tolerated by people. These are the facts of life. These are the things I fight. Most of the time I am a champion, a small part of the time, I am not. This is my day to day, this is my reality. I have mourned for my old self and I know I will never see her again. I have drawn myself together and wrapped myself in a cloak to protect myself from the world and from myself, to hold it together these days. This creation keeps me on constant alert and I am afraid to relax for if I do I will fall apart. I have a couple of times the past month and next time … I don’t know if I can wrap myself back up again.

I can recognize these things about me, I proceed. sometimes forward sometime reverse. It is a fact of life and accepting that has been harder for me than the demons and self hatred and other things I have dealt with, but I am still dealing. The truly sad part is that there are those who can not see the forest for the trees, there are people who can’t see that the sun will rise tomorrow, and the pain will ebb and flow. I pray for them, cause truly – the hope you hold on to comes from God. God has had me in his hand all this time. I thought I was the lost 99th sheep lost in the mountains, but I was truly in the sheep pen watched over by the shepherd, I just couldn’t see it.

My final thoughts. IF you know someone suffering from depression- tolerate them, and forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. They are stumbling around blind. IF you suffer from depression – try to give yourself a break, its an illness like any other illness, and as dark as the night is, or the spot you are in, there will be another day, and the sun will shine- you may have to go through some storms and cloudy days, but the sun will shine.

Thank you subscribers for your notes and readership
Thank you all for reading

professional suicide –


I committed professional suicide last week. I like to think that I have hidden my depression over the past 3 years.. Maybe not. something happened that made me angry, in relation to some one in the office. Long story short, Im in a union. nothing can be done, I expressed my displeasure about the situation to the Admin. I just wanted it to be on record. They now treat me like a crazy lady. Anything I do they are all over me, for I must be stressed. The principals last words on Friday to a fellow co worker beside my desk. “I am glad its a short week cause people need a break or sleep or something they are freaking out”

So the thing that I was always afraid of has happened. They are treating me like a crazy person, taking work away from me not to over load me, its not that busy at work, Im not over load. People tiptoeing round me – I guess they think I will explode. I didnt explode I wrote a open letter to the Admin so it could be kept on recored for situation that happened. Now its on file as against me, for anger issues, or “something must be wrong with ya” And they are not talking to me about it – at all.
I am gobsmacked
I tried to tell my husband about it. Friday night he wanted to go out, and he shut me down. We went to our local pub and I started with a tequila, and glass of wine. Saturday I spent home alone – had a nap. Said nothing about anything for the evening – my husband comments I have that down look. wants me to perk up, I start to talk about what I am thinking and he kept interupting me and I did explode -not like the first breakdown I had, but enough to freak my husband. I lock myself in our bedroom. He slept on the couch.
It wasnt till late the next day my husband confides that I truely scared him.
So like the people I work with, my husband also is tiptoeing around me. Its Monday and he has emailed me twice and text once. He hates to text and its only Lunch time now.
Funny thing is – we have this campaign against antibullying, and mental health going on at school. We have assemblies and meetings, education sessions, any child in the school who may have issues are well looked after, and Im not saying that is wrong, Lord knows they need help. But if it is an adult- well “what is wrong with u? smartin up.”
It just adds to the feeling of unlove, that already are tormenting you. Where do all those feelings come from. Why does a person feel so unloved when they are of course loved. It goes back to every person who bullied You as a child, every angry word a sibling ever said to u, snide remark from fellow workers, friends, So called friends that smile up front and stab in the back, people who tollerate you, use you, hate on you. That is where it comes from,the devil just likes to stir the pot make it unbareable. I know as a christian I am loved, and I should forgive, as Jesus did. The prayer I held onto this past Sunday was, Jesus was nailed to the cross he said “Father Forgive then for they do not know what they are doing” so you slowly forgive and release the hurt. but there are still scars.

…….