Regis, can I use a lifeline?

I called my mother today. While this may not seem a grand revelation or something noteworthy, it had symbolic meaning to me. I love my mother dearly and we have a good relationship. We normally talk on a fairly consistent basis. It's not every day or even every week, but still it happens on a somewhat regular schedule.

I haven't been a good son lately. I didn't call on her birthday (April) and I didn't call her on Mother's Day (May 11). I didn't forget either date, they didn't slip my mind. My cell phone had plenty of minutes and there were ample opportunities. When my depression takes hold of my life, I can't bring myself to call her. Part of it is the isolation that depressive thoughts bring with them. The more pertinent reason is I can't let her hear me like that. I can't let her know I'm not the strong, smart, capable son she thinks I am. I can't disappoint her. Of course, I bear the guilt of not calling on these important dates which makes it all the more difficult to pick up the phone.

One of the sad things is that I suspect she already knows. Maybe not that I've sought out treatment or had some therapy, but on some level she realizes I have some emotional problems. I think she understands when I drop off the earth for extended periods of time that things aren't good. Many years ago when I was living at home she found a letter in my dresser drawer which sounded an awful lot like a suicide note. It honestly was not, but an outside reader could have certainly interpreted it that way. It went into great detail about how my funeral would go, how no one would be there except her and my brother, that type of thing. When she found it, she was in tears and begged for me not to harm myself and that she would pay for therapy. I was in my 20's, and that was only the second time she had cried in front of me. That image of the hurt I caused her is burned into my memory, and I can't allow her to feel that way again because of me.

I know my mother loves me. She's done so much for me in my life that I could talk to her about all of this and she would be loving and supportive. I can't do that. She's had enough pain in her life, I won't add to it. I finally felt well enough to call today. We talked about an hour, a long time for us. She sounded so good and it lifted my spirits just to hear her voice. All of the good things going on for her were icing on the cake. It made all of the crap that is my life right now go away for those 60 minutes. That's why the simple act of calling my mother is symbolic. It means I've beaten back the demons for now. They always regroup, but for right now I've reached an uneasy truce with them.