Not a stalker, I promise…

Okay, I think I have posted a few times about Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half. I am not a stalker, I swear.

I think the reason why, is that first of all, she’s an amazing writer. I wish I was that good. She’s smart and funny and has a quirky way of looking at things that makes sense to me in a very real way. But mostly… Mostly because she has written about depression in a way that is more telling, more eloquent, more understandable and more accessible than anything I have ever read or could hope to write myself. She manages to convey the sense of nothing that depression can engulf you in. And she seems to make it understandable to people who’ve never experienced it themselves. At least, I think she does. I wouldn’t know exactly since I’ve only ever seen it from the inside.

She did an interview on Fresh Air on NPR. Much of the interview revolved around Allie’s posts about her struggle with depression. Which honestly, did her some disservice because there were only a couple of those posts and all of her other stuff is just as awesome and not so sad. But I guess that’s what draws people in right? The suffering of others? Anyway… If you haven’t already, you should listen to the interview

It’s real. And raw. And honest. And heart-breakingly familiar.

Given my general level of scatter-brain, I very rarely can sit and listen to something without doing something else as well. I play games, I cook, I clean and I work. I was at work when I listened to the podcast. I had to stop working. I sat, riveted with tears in my eyes as Allie haltingly talked about suicide and how it hadn’t really started with her wanting to kill herself, just to not be HERE anymore. And how she had made up a plan that would look like an accident so it wouldn’t hurt her family as much. And I knew it. I knew that feeling, that impulse, that desperate thought, that anything else, even death, would be better than this. And I knew, that like Allie, the only thing that had kept me alive then, was the thought of my family. Not how much they’d miss me, but how disruptive and upsetting it would be for them to find me, to know that I did that to myself. And, like her, I look back now and I get choked up, because I know how awful it would have been if I had actually given in and taken the only escape I saw.

So I listened. And I cried a little bit. And then I went back to work. And I felt a little better about things.

Thanks for that Allie.


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