Another trip out in search of sunshine with the poorly theme continuing.
I did quite well sending a few Christmas cards this year. Not many but I think I was a bit more with it this year. I still got a couple of cards addressed to both of us. Weird.
The reason I mention this now is because it has been on my mind. There were two cards in particular that I replied to with a longer message.

One was to someone I used to work with and who had written in her card that she had fully retired now and moved away. I wrote back to apologise for not keeping in touch and explaining that I’d been struggling and pretty depressed over the last few years. She had known my previous partner well, growing up in the same village and she had got to know my husband too. I wanted to let her know that I often think of her.

The other is from an old friend, just a bit younger than me. She had written apologising for forgetting my birthday and had included a lovely crocheted scarf. My last contact with her was a few texts just over a year ago when we were going to meet for lunch around my birthday. On the day we had arranged she texted to say she couldn’t make it and saying she’d be in touch. That was our last contact except I’d sent birthday cards to them and the children. When I got the card and scarf I was very touched. In the card she said she’d love to see me.
So, I sent a card back and wrote quite a bit saying how lovely it was to hear from her and how lovely the scarf was. Again, I decided to be more honest about how hard things had felt and how depressed I had been.
I haven’t heard anything since and it’s been a month now. I find myself curious on lots of levels....
It can feel like a declaration of The Plague
It can feel incredibly alienating and much worse than just withdrawing and not saying anything to people you feel you might be able to trust after 30 years of knowing each other
The advice is ‘to talk’ to friends, etc. but I think that has to be considered carefully and can backfire
It’s a risk and, if vulnerable, can be a dangerous risk
I have seen ‘posts’ specifically relating to depression/ mental health on Facebook that have been ‘liked’ and shared by this person so find myself wondering what that is about.

I had made a decision that I had felt sufficiently okay to say something. I don’t know what the response to my note has been. It could be read as ‘I’m not up to meeting’ perhaps. It could be difficult to know how to reply perhaps. I simply don’t know. I could have just said thanks for the lovely scarf and left it at that but that would both not explain the reality nor begin to bridge the yawning gulf that can stretch out from loss and the alienation of depression.
The separation of death amongst the living.
Of course, I could just pick up the phone and ring or text and say, let’s meet, but having said what I have feels quite exposing. And the aloneness of it can be quite profound.