8 posts tagged “depression”

Last night I had a dream that a man came to me in my sleep. He did not have me sexually. He simply put his hand on my forehead, stroked my hair and kissed my cheek. I went to sleep last night with ache in both of my legs. When it is cold outside my legs hurt. In my dream, he eased my pain. He put his hands to my legs and gently rubbed them, pulling out the knots in the muscles and relaxing me. I remember him holding me while I cried. It was mercy. But, when I woke up this morning my leg ache was still there, no one was near me and I truly felt alone.

I feel abandoned by everyone who should be there for me. Some of my dearest friends have made their decisions, their judgments and to them, I'm not worthy of their comfort, empathy or compassion. One could say they aren't truly a friend, but to me they are dear to me. I forgive all too easily. I love with all my heart, even if it rips my heart apart. I need their compassion.
 
I truly long for human contact. It is cold outside and to save money on heating costs, I keep the thermostat on low. I can only cover up in so many blankets before I am wishing for the warmth of another.  I hate the hours where I am here, in my empty apartment. I become excited at the thought of going to work. When I am here, as I am now, in my apartment, I try to find things to do. I cook and I clean. Sometimes I read. But, I do not enjoy it or find the meaning I once found in it. I've lost interest in things I love. I used to draw. I used to paint.

I've become depressed to a point I never thought I would return to. I was here, once, long ago, when I was a child. I was a girl and my parents fought quite a lot. Before the realization, I remember being very small, too young to know of their troubles, and running through corn stalks, thinking how good it was to be alive. Then, slowly over time I became aware of my parents problems. I remember at about the age of 10 coming to a point of despair in which I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I couldn't feel safe. I feel as if I've returned to this feeling.

I want someone to come sit with me. I want someone to hold me. I want someone to look into my eyes and tell me everything is going to be okay. I feel isolation and despair eating me alive. I fear that I no longer have enough vigor left in me to fight. I used to have strength. I used to take a stand for things I didn't feel were right. I would pick myself up and keep on going. I had a plan. Now I see my plans and my hopes and I can't seem to focus on the details, the steps they require. I feel paralyzed. I wish someone would come free me from the prison I am in, trapped inside my own hopelessness. I swear, a simple and consistent it's going to be alright, you can do this, would give me just enough courage and strength to keep going. I need true empathy.

It would be easier if the people telling and talking words would realize it's their actions, their deeds that mean the most, that motivate me and inspire me, keep me pushing through. The words come so easy to say, and to them these words are the solution. I hear the words all around. But for me, high up on a ladder I've started to climb, if I don't see my dearest standing below me, ready to catch me should I fall, I feel nothing but distraught.

I have an apartment of my own now. I will soon have a better job and a car. I'll bring my son home. But right now, at this moment, I feel lost. I'm trying so hard to focus on me. Me. My life. Everyone keeps telling ME that. "Focus on you, Kristen," they all tell me. That's easier said than done. I barely know how. I'm so used to caring for another, nurturing a love, and a family.

I hate to feel this helpless and hopeless. I feel so pathetic. But, I can't help it. It's how I feel. I hate it. It surely will pass though. Somehow I'll adjust. And, maybe by putting this down in writing and posting it, bearing all that makes me feel weak and ashamed, others who might be in my shoes will know they, too, are not alone.

Matthew sent me an audio text to my cell phone last night. I was woken up to the sound of my phone going off when the text came in. I check my phone 24/7, in cast anything ever went wrong with William or in case someone needed me. So, I picked up my phone, opened the text and listened to the recording. In it William was crying. He was asking, "where Momma? where Momma?"

My heart broke. Now he is beginning to feel the pain of this. I beat myself up constantly as it is. I know his confusion and pain will only grow. I try to tell myself that Matthew and I will make his life as easy as we can but in reality, his life will be full of never-ending change and stability will be difficult to maintain.

I asked Matthew not to send me messages like that. I can't bear it. I was almost angry at him for sending it to me in the first place. But, if my son is hurting I would like to know so I can be there for him as best I can.

However, what can I do from here? I'm 1,000 miles away and financially held back. I will just have to keep going and live with this and fight it! I must.

It's hard though. I have little to no help, therefore I need a car so I can take William to day-care, so I can work and not have to ask my small circle of friends (which are a couple of ladies my age who already have full time jobs) to babysit. I can't bring William to me until I have a car and I can't get a car until I have more money. I'm in a vicious and I need help!

I get so tired. I am succumbing to a deep depression, yet fighting it as best I can. I am trying so hard to stay focused on my goals, no matter how hard they may be, but my obstacles are looming huge in front of me. I walk several blocks to work regardless if it is raining or snowing or freezing cold, so I can save up for a car, so I can bring my son home. I feel disillusion and dismay. Some days my depression is so intense I feel actual physical pain in my body, a pain I can't describe, a pain I wish would stop.

I'd give anything for that pain to cease. I'd give anything to hold my son again.

The word that comes to mind is, anguish.

First of all, thank you everyone. I cannot tell you all what it means to have your compassion and encouragement as I have been enduring problems in my marriage and life, and dealing with the depression and discouragement that has followed.

What wonderful friends I have.

The past couple of days, I've found it hard to write. It makes me uncomfortable to talk about my marriage. Sometimes when it's not going as I'd like, I feel like a failure as a woman, a wife and a mother when things hit rock bottom on my life. My pride doesn't like to advertise "she's having problems."

Yet, I felt I had to express my feelings.

One reason why I haven't addressed each and every one of you is because I am overwhelmed with your care, concern, and compassion, I don't know where to begin, or how to find the words. My appreciation goes so deep.

I want you all to know that as soon as your comments and emails started pouring in, I began to feel better. I felt a huge weight lift from my spirit. I felt strong. I felt on the path to restoration.

My fever broke last night and I coughed less. I looked into the mirror, as applied make-up and brushed my hair. I saw the face of a woman. Never in my life has my reflection stared back so strong, so intensely, so woman.

Yesterday and the night before were some of the darkest hours in a great long time. I wouldn't say I am 100% better. I feel as if I am half way there, to pulling myself out of the hole I was in. But the light shines down upon me, in this dark place. And I find myself climbing out a lot faster than I anticipated. I know soon, I'll be back to my usual, happy, bright self.

I owe that not just to all of you, my friends, but mostly to my husband.

He is a wonderful man.

Last night he returned from work with a gentle hug to greet me. He brought me chicken soup and medicine for my UT infection - which wasn't cheap. He brought me a bag of body wash and lotions from Bath & Body Works and while the giving of a gift doesn't necessarily take the pain or hurt away, or makes things suddenly better, it was a wonderful, kind and thoughtful gesture.

He knows how much I love fragrances. He wrote on the bag, "To Marilyn Monroe, your #1 stalker." And he informed he that while he was shopping for the fragrances, he took the time to ask the women who worked in the store what sort of things I might like, based on my personality and my favorite smells. It meant so much to me that he did this, that he made this effort.

I spoke to him about me getting my driver's license. He says it is about time and that I was right in needing and wanting this. While we cannot quite afford the car insurance for me to drive right now, he says he will help me to get my license and add me onto the insurance later, when we can afford it.

The rest of it was said in the silent glances we exchanged that night and the way he held my hand. I saw in his eyes the willingness, compassion and understanding of a man who loves his wife and wants to please her. I realized I cannot hold back my feelings and let them later explode onto him in one giant emotional eruption. I realized, he's just a man. He cannot read my mind. He needs me to tell him how I feel, so he can please me.

My mother-in-law took our son for the night. We went out to ice cream and had a banana split, as a couple on a date. We laughed, joked and talked like we hadn't talked in a long time. I told him "we need to do this every week. We need to just drop the kid off at your mom's and have a date. This sort of thing is so good." And he agreed, most definitely.

Then we went to a movie. I asked him to pick the picture. I wanted him to know the night wasn't all about me after all and that he mattered too.  However, even though he picked the film, I think he picked it with me in mind. He knows I love the fantastical, magical and imaginative world of myth and legend.

He chose the most beautiful, imaginative movie, after searching through trailers online. I think it was the best movie I have ever seen, in a long time.

It was called Pan's Labyrinth.

There was magic, love, death, war, fauns and faeries, princesses and kings and queens. It was dark, it was gothic, yet it was full of light and splendor. I believe it was called "a fairy tale for adults."

It was such a wonderful film. I left with a lump in my throat but also, a happiness because the story itself was pure good triumphing over evil.

This film fit what we went through together. He really picked it for me.

As I write this, I look back on the past two days and I ask myself "Did I question my marriage? My faith? Did I lose hope? Did I really think that little girl inside of me wanted to be liked by a friend who was full of jealousy and envy?"

Yet now, to my amazement, the woman that stares back at me in the mirror smiles and I feel I am so close to being recovered, restored to new. 

I believe one of you wrote: 

"As for your faith, this will probably sound strange coming from an atheist like me, but I think you should forget about what other people are doing, saying, and thinking and concentrate on what YOU believe. Plenty of Christians wonder, question, and doubt, but they say it makes their faith stronger. At the end of the day, either you believe or you don't."

This piece of advice has really stuck out for me. It's not hard to figure out who wrote this, if you read through comments, but she knows who she is and if you do find her, she's a wonderful person. She even offered to mail me antibiotics. So many other friends reached out. You all know who you are and you all mean so much to me. We are strangers most of us, but not so much if you think about it.

Thank you all for being a part of my expressive, passionate life.

I'm just so grateful for the man I married. He loves me more than I sometimes realize or could possibly know. Sometimes trying to grasp that knowledge is difficult. One cannot grasp it, one can only lovingly feel it when it comes to pass.

Today is the most depressing day of the year - Blue Monday. Why is that? The weather? I don't know. I think that it's ironic though, that today is considered the most depressing day of the year because I myself am very depressed today.

Ever feel completely physically, mentally, emotionally and even spiritually down? I don't think I feel so bad as to say I'm hopeless. I can't ever be that low. I'm too strong. Hope is all I have. But nevertheless, I am really, really sad today. I don't mean for this to sound like a pity-party or a cry for help even. I just hurt. In every way. And I need to express my feelings.

I'm physically low.

I have a terrible flu. It's going to my lungs and today I coughed up blood. Matthew and I don't have medical insurance right now. I have a UT or bladder infection too. It's just starting so I'm hoping I can beat it with lots of cranberry juice and Azo. I feel like I'm coming down with a fever, however. That means it's most likely a bladder infection. I really don't want to end up in the ER.

I'm mentally low.

I am depressed. The past two weeks have taken their toll on me. To make a long story short, my best friend from childhood has decided she doesn't want to be my friend anymore.

Money is tight, very tight. We are trying to save up for our move in the spring and I am terrified and worried as to how we are going to do it.

I feel alienated from some of my family members. I don't know what I can do or how I can tell them how much they matter to me and I need them.

My husband and I have been having problems. I feel under appreciated in all I do as a wife and mother. He thinks that running a household and raising our son isn't enough to define "work." I lashed out at him after he told me that "he doesn't see me doing anything and I spend too much time online."

We got into a horrible fight. I tried to express my feelings calmly at first, but he took everything so personally, I ended up crying my eyes out as he walked out of the house.

I told him one reason I am online so much, writing, blogging, and chatting is because I don't feel appreciated or remembered, so I go looking for friendships to fill the void in my heart. I just wanted him to see that it's the little things, like telling me I'm beautiful, thanking me for dinner, doing his laundry, or offering to take the trash out that make me a happy wife.

I am emotionally low.

I've done so much crying lately, I feel drained. I've also been shutting down emotionally and I feel empty inside. I feel void of life, laughter or spirit. I am stuck here in this house, with no driver's license, or freedom except to walk to Carmichael Park or BigLots to look at things I can't afford to have. I try to stay active by going on walks in my neighborhood and drowning my emotions in music. Matthew doesn't think it's worth our time for me to get my driver's license because we'd have to pay an extra $150 a month in car insurance.

Well, if I'm not even worth that, what am I worth? Do I not matter? Why can't I drive? Why can't I be able to go get groceries or take myself somewhere other than this suburb I am sick of looking at day after day. I feel so worthless. I've been waiting so patiently for him to agree to let me drive. I don't know any other wives or women my age who don't have a driver's license. I love my husband and I respect his wishes but sometimes I feel like he doesn't want me to be happy because it's another inconvenience for him.

I tried to tell him this. I think he understood. I think he listened. But he doesn't talk to me, he doesn't say anything. He is switched off emotionally himself and I can't read his mind. I don't know what he's thinking. I NEED him to speak to me, to work with me, to compromise with me. I'm willing to get a part time job so I can help pay for the extra costs of driving. I've also told him if I could drive, I could start that pet sitting business I've always wanted to start.

I'm spiritually low.

I believe in God. I think I do. I'm just not sure anymore...

Lately I've experienced real doubt about my religion - Christianity. I have friends and family members who are self-richeous Christians, passing judgments on me and others, not practicing their beliefs, being so cold and un-Christ like. It leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I see so many Christians lying, cheating, judging, harassing, being hypocritical. I see more bad Christians than good Christians.

As a Christian, I know I am supposed to be patient with them, love them and forgive them. I try my best. I try as hard as I can but I myself catch myself passing judgments on them too. I just feel so jaded! I can't seem to move past the judgments and cruelty that have been passed upon me for my mistakes or poor behaviors. I feel lost. I don't know if I believe in Christianity anymore. I don't know if I want to. I love Jesus Christ and I want to strive to be more like him, but it's so hard to believe in something that has become so tainted in not just my eyes, but the eyes of the world as well.

I'm just not myself these days.

I've always fought for happiness but I'm finding myself so low, I don't have much a fight in me. I've been trying to stay focused, occupied and busy. I will bake. I'll go on walks. But all in all and truthfully, I feel overwhelmed. I'm tired of putting on a happy face when I'm not happy inside. I want to give up in every way when my husband forgets me, when I lose faith, when I feel poorly and when I'm uncomfortable. Because of the fact I want to give up, I feel like a coward. I feel weak. I should be able to carry on.

I know one thing for sure. I have to be strong. My baby needs me. My child needs his mother to be strong, to push on and be courageous. It's just so hard right now.

I can only hope and keep on going.

Hopefully my husband will remember to let me know I'm important to him and I can learn to be a more appreciative, less resentful wife. Hopefully he and I can come to a compromise.

Hopefully I'll get over my flu and fight off this UT infection and be able to get back into the swing of things. I want to feel better. I'll go to the doctor if it gets much worse and I'll worry about the bill later.

Hopefully I can reconnect with friends and family I feel alienated with and if I can't, so be it. Hopefully I'll move on and learn acceptance. I can't make someone care or understand or even like me.

Hopefully I can restore my mental state to a more strong outlook. Hopefully I can find that fire inside of me that exists and rekindle it. I think with writing this, my friends and family will read this and reach out and I can let them support me, help me and encourage me.

Hopefully I can find my faith again and restore it to what it should be. Hopefully I can move past the hypocracy and judgments, learn to forgive, accept and move on from even the so-called Christians, and hope they will come around and realize what they do.

Hope is all I have when I feel this low.

A year has passed since William, my son's, first Christmas and it is now his second. He will get to experience Santa, Elves and the Reindeer. He will be able to appreciate the lights and sounds of the season and be aware of the magic in the air.

My husband Matthew and I are happy this is so. We're happy in general this Christmas Season. Especially me. I have many reasons to be happy this year, the biggest reason -

Our little William.

Besides being thankful for and blessed with a beautiful, perfect child to cheer us and warm out hearts, I am also thankful that I've come so far as a woman, wife and mother. And in just a year's time. I am so grateful for the peace I feel this year. 

I look back a year ago. William was about 3 months old. It was raining non-stop. It seemed like it just rained and rained and wouldn't stop. I had been battling postpartum depression since early November and on Christmas Day, I broke down.

I look back and I think how powerful this horrible disorder can be, how devastating and cruel it can be on a woman and those around her, who love her, and the new baby she's brought into the world.

However, I have always been a strong woman and it wasn't that I didn't want to be a mother and it wasn't that I didn't love my child. I loved him with all my heart and it was him that gave me strength and courage to bring myself and my mind back to normal again.

It took me a while to realize I had this disorder but once I was sure, I got it under control and I sought help.

I look back a year ago at my behavior, my sorrow, my sadness during such a beautiful time and I thank God that I had the strength to defeat it and let the beauty of motherhood conquer the depression I suffered as a new mother, during Christmas.

I thank God that I had my wonderful husband and beautiful baby to inspire me to pull through. I thank God I had family and friends to support me. I thank God for my inner strength and courage to end my postpartum depression and embrace motherhood for the beautiful journey it is.

This year, on Christmas, as everything comes full circle, I thank God again.

Deeply, I am in humble debt to Him for all the blessings He has bestowed upon me and our little family. Never in my life have I enjoyed Christmas more than this year. Never in my life, since I was a child and the magic of Christmas and Jesus touched my life and left me in excited bliss, have I felt such awe.

I feel happiness when I look at all the various Christmas lights adorning the houses of our suburb. I feel happiness when I go shopping, even with the mass amounts of crowds and cranky last-minute shoppers. I feel happiness when I sit by our Christmas tree and savor it's fresh, pine aroma. I feel happiness when I think of the Christmas cards I sent out, bound for many corners of the World, to dear friends and family. I feel happiness when I think of my friends and their families, celebrating their own personal Holidays together. I feel Happiness when I think about the gatherings we will have on Christmas Day, as a family and with extended family.

I feel Happiness when I sit with my husband and sip hot chocolate and listen to The Carpenters singing "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas." I feel happiness baking Christmas cookies with William tugging my pants, at my feet, looking up at me with wonder in his eyes. I feel happiness thinking of many Christmas's past, of my own childhood, of my mother and father and the warm smiles they exchanged as I opened my presents from Santa.

I feel happiness when I hold my son and watch Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer. I feel happiness when I am in bed at night with my husband, his arms around me, as our house radiates warmth from the inside and glows warm from the outside, while the beautiful lights hung on our eves burn through the night.

I feel happy for so many reasons and I am grateful to God for all those reasons on this Christmas Season.

May all who read this have a blessed Christmas Season and New Year with those you love, embracing the happiness this special time of year has to offer, as you forge the memories life is made of.

Matthew, William and I wish you a Merry Christmas.
May it be bright.

Sometimes I am really good at painting pretty pictures. Not just literally but also metaphorically. For example, I can draw or sketch just about anything, to make it look how I want. And I can also paint my life to look a certain way. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I can arrange the pieces of my life and place the brush stroke where it should go and everything seems to fall into place, as it should. Because I'm painting my life as it is meant to be, from my heart, as a true artist and person' does.

But lately my attempts to paint a false picture have been failing because I've been falling apart at the seams, slowly but surely. Lately, all I've been doing is painting a mask over how I really feel, which isn't pretty. I've been putting on a big smile, a cheesy, goofy grin and saying to the world and those around me "I'm fine." But truthfully I'm not. Truth be told, I'm really struggling inside.

For some reason I beat myself up more than I should and I see my inner struggles as some form of weakness. My pride has already taken a major beating in the past two years, and I ask myself: why should I put myself out there on a plate, for everyone to scrutinize, judge and pick me raw? (When actually most of my friends and family would do neither.) For some reason I distrust and jump to conclusions, I expect to be let down, when actually I have a wonderful network of friends and family to reach out to... if I would only stop focusing on my "poor me" negative outlook and actually see that!

I guess I just don't want to admit I have problems and I need help sometimes. I guess I get sick of struggling and I just want my life to be "comfortable" and not ever have to suffer, or have my problems just "go away."

People say to me "Oh you're so wonderful, so kind, so beautiful. You have it all." And I do have many blessings. I really do. But I also have a life and feelings within. I have my demons. I am not perfect. I have flaws to contend with and negative personality traits that I need to change. But it's so hard for me to admit those things sometimes! Sometimes I just want to paint a "pretty picture." Because that's easier and I won't have to actually deal with my problems. And often I do. And I can't do that. Because denial is a lonely, dead end place.

I want to be strong for people and also let them see me at my low points, and allow them to help me. I want to be able to lift people's spirits in return and shed my wounded pride. And I want to be a strong, happy person on the inside, smiling not just outwardly by inwardly too. For myself and for others.

I don't think that anything I say now most people have not been through already. Every day we confront ourselves, or at least we should. I think I am too hard on myself. I think these inner battles I wage with depression, low self-esteem and flawed character traits are normal things to feel and deal with. In fact, the best therapists and psychologists   have told me so. I am just really bad about living in state's of denial and I have got to stop it.

I'm going to admit something here:

There's a negative, pessimistic, cynical side to me.
And it's got to go. Because I'm tired of it.  

I am feeling a little better.

Today, things were not back to normal between my husband and I, but the situation reached at least 80% better and on the mend. This morning I woke up, gave him a hug and said how sorry I was. He replied only by saying "I love you." And that was enough for me. Dawn broke and the darkness of my restless mind dissolved.

The previous night was difficult. I ended up staying awake by myself long into the morning hours. I fell asleep, curled up, on our little sofa eventually, but not before having many tears of guilt, hurt, anger and confusion. I hate it when my marriage suffers. I myself hat to suffer. Nobody does.

Usually when I get down from things, whatever they may be (in this case, my marriage suffering) I find ways to make the situation better and fill my hours awake with productive and constructive things. I try to learn something new.

Sometimes I'll read an educational book. Sometimes I'll go hiking and discover some new place I've never seen. Other times I'll just go on a walk and take note on the many variety of rose bushes that line the suburbian neighborhoods I pass through, slowly by surely. However, today, I did nothing of those sorts.

Today I baked an apple pie. From Scratch.

I seriously mean it. I baked it 100% from household ingredients. I mixed flour, water and shortening and rolled out the dough. I cut 6 cups of apples into tiny pieces, coated them in sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. I lovingly pressed apple shaped cuts into the top of the pie. I baked it and tended to it and after it was done, I sliced it open to reveal it's warm, gooey, inner delight. My husband remarked he had never had such a good pie, "not even a pie from the famous town Apple Hill" could beat the pie I just made, he boasted.

 

It was very good, I had to agree. I couldn't believe it came out so perfect. The dough was perfect, the apples crisp, yet soft. The smell of nutmeg and cinnamon was overwhelming and the brown sugar, crumb topping was sweet goodness.

I was beaming.

(Cate, remember how I said "If I ever bake a home made pie from scratch, shoot me, because I'm not that domestic?" Well, you better get out the gun, because... I did it. And I am that domestic after all! lol)

Then to make my day turn even brighter, I received a surprise from a friend. While my husband and I were out running errands earlier in the day, a florist stopped by and delivered a beautiful arrangement onto our front porch. I was so shocked to see a colorful, bright surprise sitting there on my porch. I still smile just thinking about it.

I didn't see them at first. Normally we come home through the back door. I came inside and the first thing I did was check our answering machine. The florist had left a message.

"Hello this is Folsom Florist. I left a bouquet of flowers on your front porch with your nice little dog."

So, I ran outside and yep, there they were. They are now sitting nearby on my kitchen table, looking most beautiful and filling me with gratitude. I can't believe I have such a nice, caring friend.

The card read:

"Thank you Kristen, for all your support. You really are a good friend. Flowers for you, chocolates for Matthew and a balloon for William. Love, your friend." ( Who will remain anonymous.)

It was odd and funny though, because there were no chocolates, nor was there a balloon on the porch with the flowers. We thought  maybe our dog, Oliver, ate the chocolates and the balloon floated away. But 30 minutes later the florist called and said "I just got home and realized I have two items, chocolates and a balloon, that were supposed to be delivered to you today, with your flowers, so I will bring them in the morning, tomorro." Haha.

All in all, I feel much better, but I have a lot of improving to do.  I know that I have a lot to do to improve my husband's faith in me. I didn't do anything horrible. It's just, I let him down and I shouldn't have.

The most important thing is he loves me and I love him and no matter what we go through, we'll always have each other.

I battle depression. It's a cross I bear and one I refuse to let consume me. I do pretty well most of the time. Most people tell me they'd never guess it, that depression is so prevalent in me. Well, it is. It always has been. I've simply learned about it, realized it's devastation and learned to overcome it. But some days I'm just not strong enough and it comes rushing in, like flood water, and sweeps me away. Today is one of those days.

This time of year really can bring it on and I have very much felt the depression lurking whenever the sky remains cloudy and grey for days at a time. But, Tonight was not a good night, regardless of weather.

My husband got mad at me and no matter what I did to make it better, nothing helped. I, of course, deserved it. I did something to upset him. I didn't mean to, but I did. The depression then hit hard. I don't handle it well when this man of mine goes into his cave. But I have learned there's not forcing him out, once he's in, and that the best thing to do is wait. And so, I began my wait after he asked me to leave him alone.

I realized I have to do things to fill my mind and life right now so that the depression doesn't consume me. In the morning my husband might need me. So, I went to the movie cupboard for something uplifting.
 
I now find myself here online at nearly midnight, typing blogs, chatting to friends and watching one of my favorite comfort movies - Trains, Planes and Automobiles. My husband sleeps without me for the first time in 6 years. I can't help but choke back the tears. But it's for the best tonight.

Trains, Planes and Automobiles.

Yes, this is the one I picked. And for good reason. It's one of my favorite movies! Especially for this time of year, seeing as the film takes place around the Thanksgiving Holiday.

This movie always gets me, especially now, tonight, emotional as I already am. I laugh and cry. It helps me a lot to appreciate people, be patient, understanding and learn forgiveness. This movie always makes me feel better, no matter what mood I am in. John Candy's character is so uplifting and Steve Martin has always been my favorite actor since I was a girl and my father and I would watch him on Saturday Night Live every weekend, like religion.

John Candy and Steve Martin always make me laugh, good, hearty chuckles. They are so funny together. Their comedic chemistry is magnetic. They also makes me cringe when their two characters get seriously mad at each other and insult one another. They say some really mean things that can't be taken back or forgotten. But it reminds me that we all do that to one another, from time to time.

I love in the end, when they part ways, after all their struggles to get home for the Holiday, how Steve Martin goes back to the Train Station for John Candy, after realizing his shower curtain salesman companion of the road and airways, had nowhere to go, and brought him back with him, to meet his children and wife, to share Thanksgiving dinner and stay in their home.

I love acts of kindness, like helping out a stranger. And I especially admire John Candy's forgiving soul in this movie. I felt so bad for him that he had lost his wife and just wondered around train stations and air ports looking for help and looking a friend.

I guess everybody needs that from time to time. No matter what situation we may find ourselves in.