Boundaries--The Dark Post

Today someone who has a history of clinical depression and dumping it in my lap told me that they spent an entire day just crying. This is so far from the first time that I've been handed this burden that I cannot even begin to recall the day it started.

I said to them, "If you're unwilling to do the work which depression requires, then stop asking me to do it for you."

Sounds a little harsh when I read it back, but I'm tired. As one who fully understands the toll depression can take on your deepest soul, I'm learning to impose boundaries as I grow up, even when it's hard. There are professionals, there is medication, and there are options. There is not, however, a dumping ground at my feet, and I cannot fix you. (I submit my incredibly flawed self as proof.)

Be forewarned now. I'm getting tired of holding my opinions back so that other people don't have to feel uncomfortable. No one seems to mind in the least what their words do to me and in return I'm caring less and less about keeping the peace these days.

To quote a friend who I'm finally really starting to understand: Don't go there unless you really, really, REALLY want to. You may not like how either one of us look after we get back.

-b