And Some More Despair

Today I'm feeling pretty despair-y. Things just keep getting worse. In my saner moments, I can see that somehow I'm still standing, and I think that maybe this is a path I need to take that is hard but something I can survive and be stronger and happier for. And junk. But I am also tired. And I have moments where my heart cries out "how much more?"  Could I please have some peace and calm and rightness in my life?

Right now the miracle is probably that I am surviving. And I know I should be grateful. And many moments I am. But other moments, I just feel like the crazy is going to suck me in. And I feel scared. Because I don't know how much longer I can stand.

Anger and Despair

Anger and Despair,
Anger and Despair,
Do dodo dooo
Anger and Despair.

I thought maybe if I made up a cute little song about my crazy, it would be kind of cute and fun. Maybe whimsical. Not so much.

I'm having one of my really angry cranky weeks. I'm feeling some anger toward pretty much anyone who crosses my path. Holy crazy. My sweet, well intentioned man came over last night with the intention of cheering me up. I had to work very hard at not biting his head off. He does not have the experience with depression to understand that the plan of "cheering up" a depressed person does not necessarily work. He did make me feel loved and warm for a minute. But then I think it might have backfired somehow, because we ended the evening with him annoyed with me. I'm not even totally clear on what it was that he was upset about. I'm not saying he was upset for no reason... but I have no idea what I did. I was trying very hard not to be irritable and angry with him. I don't know if he felt like I was being cold because I was holding back... I'm not really sure.

I hate how my depression seems to cripple my relationships. Bleh.

Stupidity

I made a huge mistake. And continue to make it. It's interesting what loneliness and isolation can drive you to. Even in this anonymous space, I can't admit what I did. It's too big, and too ugly, and yet to most of you would not be as big and ugly as it is for me. But it is big and ugly to me. And I hate that even a few trusted friends even know. I feel like this road of depression has lead me to be a person that I never meant to be. I never wanted to be this. But I can't seem to be who I want to be, even when I try with all my might. Is it just me, or is the world getting uglier? I feel like the whole world is slowly going crazy. Or maybe that's just me.

Thievery

I am fully convinced now that Depression steals from people. I have had whole parts of my identity stolen from me. That's not to say I can't get them back. But it is trying to take things from me. It is greedy, and it grabs at things, and holds onto them tight, and hopes that I will forget I once owned those things.

Like what? For one, my interests. I like to cook. But it has been so long since I've truly been able to remember the pleasurable parts of cooking that I have lost a lot of my cooking skills. People who I would characterize as good friends, and people who hardly know me, all think that I don't know how to cook, and that I don't really enjoy it. It surprises me and irritates me when I discover this attitude and belief in people. It is frustrating when my friends give me the same look my mom used to give me when I said I wanted to sew a quilt (she's seen me with a sewing machine--straight lines are harder than you think!) when I say I like cooking. I do like to cook. But even now, as the meds are returning me to a place of balance where I have interest in DOING things again, I struggle to make that true again. Because I've forgotten how somehow. And I can't think what to do. I have vague intentions of doing it again, and more often. But I feel deeply rooted in the rut in which I have entrenched myself.

It also has stolen my happiness. And I don't just mean the ability to feel it from day to day. I mean, while I've been so deeply immersed in a dark and dreary existence, I missed LIFE. I didn't choose things that maybe would have put me in better places. I seem to have lost some of the bonds with friends and loved ones that kept us bound to each others' daily lives. I'm alone. Other people around me seem to have managed to end up happy and WITH people, and DOING things. I do things, but alone.

I can't quite fully articulate what depression has stolen. People who have never felt it will often say, or privately think, that we are responsible for the loss we experience when we allow things to happen TO us. I don't dispute that. I have let a lot of things happen to me. I have been in those deep dark places where I don't care, because of a crazy chemical imbalance. It is all my fault my life is not different. And at the same time, it is NOT my fault. I have control over where I am, but I don't have control. I feel both ways. In my healthy moments, I can see what I should have done. But in those unhealthy moments, I didn't see it. 

So many times, from so many people, I've heard the viewpoint expressed that the dark ugly points in our lives make our lives richer, and deeper, and more the person we are meant to be. And on my sunny days, I agree with this concept, and sometimes even embrace it. But on my dark, desperate, miserable days, I despise this theory. I find it deplorable. What doesn't kill us might make us stronger. Or it might debilitate us and suspend us in our anguish.

I'm Super Sneaky.... Right?

In my life I have observed addiction and the havoc it wreaks on a person. I've seen someone in the early stages, who may succeed in hiding the addiction and gloss over the effects it is having on them. I have seen that same person begin to fail to hid their addiction, but not recognize that everyone can see their addiction. And sadly, I have seen the later stages, where all effort at hiding it are thrown aside, and the addiction has a firm grip on the person, and the effects really start to show. The person is changed by it. Depression can have a similar grip on a person, and I think have some similar effects.

Today I wondered to myself how I appear to others given my depression. I know that there have been moments where I have thought I was hiding the effects, but it was clear to at least those who love me and are close to me that I was deeply depressed. I know that there have been moments where I know the effects are evident to people, and I've not had either the energy or the inclination to attempt to hide the signs . But I don't know for sure how things look in general, and to all those in my lives.

Today, the man I have been dating was supposed to come over. He hasn't been over in a few weeks, and I have not had any other visitors in that time. I'm not going to lie; my house was an absolute wreck. I can be a pretty good housekeeper, especially when I am healthy. But when I am feeling a lot of stress or am really in the thick of my depression, it shows in how I take care of things around me. The chaos in my brain seems to translate to chaos in every aspect of my life. In normal circumstances, gaining some order in the aspects I can control, like my living environment and my office, helps me gain some control over my life (but my control issues are a whole other topic). But when I'm really unhealthy mentally, the physical order does not overcome my broader issues of foggy unfocus, inability to process emotions well, and lack of interest in.... anything. Including succeeding. Success? Not that great to depressed SadGirl.

I can't quite fully articulate the different I feel between healthy SadGirl and unhealthy SadGirl. All those symptoms on the little checklist they have you fill out at the doctor's office to determine the magnitude of your depression seem to have gained new meaning to me in the last year. Because I didn't realize how bad it could really get. And I feel like I've got a firm grasp on just how bad it can get. Am hoping I can move beyond that soon to having a distant memory of how that felt. But I digress.

So, my man is coming over. And I spent about an hour rushing around cleaning things and vacuuming and putting things away and doing dishes and organizing things. Which made me think of addiction. And how I think I can hide my illness. And the man? Super observant and good at noticing things. Which makes me wonder, am I like the crazy addicted person who insists they are not drunk even though they smell like a brewery and slur their words? Is he totally onto me? Also, is this a thing a lot of people dealing with depression do? I feel like I need to google "tips for hiding your depression." Maybe there is a guide for this. Am totally going to do that right now. Right after I click "publish."

Nature

I work with people who talk about "self care" a lot. It's important. I am bad at it. It doesn't help that I live alone, and have no compelling reason to leave work at a reasonable hour a lot of the time. I kind of suck at taking care of myself. This has been compounded in my lack of interest in, you know, life. Recently I've found an interest in life again. This is very encouraging. Things bring me joy, and, dare I hope, peace. I find myself not only excited to make plans, but willing to actually carry them out. I suddenly have the ability to enjoy things again. Mind you, I have not suddenly become an extrovert. Large social events still don't thrill me. Or even small social events, really. But I have rediscovered my love of nature. The last hike I took, my spirit was practically singing. I felt bliss. I did not know that bliss was still a thing! I might have to try this nature thing again.

I Need a Vacation

My friend just left for vacation, and I won't see her for a few weeks.When we parted, I had the impulse to savor the last few moments together, because I was going to miss her. After she left, I pondered why it felt like such a huge deal to part, as thought I wouldn't see her for a very long time. She is always eager to say goodbye to people when vacation is looming.I don't get that. As I thought about that, I thought, I'm never so excited about vacation. But, I also thought, if I was getting a break from me, I would feel a burst of freedom like she seemed to be feeling too. I want a vacation from me. I'm exhausting. I don't blame others for wanting a break from me. This friend wants a break from me. My man wants a break Why can't I have a break? It would be so relaxing. I wish I knew how to do that. .

Choose Me.

Why do I pick the men that don't choose me. If it's between me and some fun thing to do, they choose the thing. That's a sign, I know. Somehow I get really wrapped up in them before they start doing that. And then I don't want to let go, even though they don't choose me. Also they make it my fault that they didn't choose me. So sick of this.

Turns Out Music is Fun

One of the oddest effects of my depression is that Music literally can pain me when I'm depressed. I used to LOVE music. I found it soothing, and it was a great way to relax for me. Then, in my twenties, it was too hard to listen to when I was having a really hard time.  That is when I discovered talk radio and became an Old Person.I have continued to like music over the years, and didn't' realize I was missing anything.But this week, I'm loving music again in a way that I didn't realize I was missing. Who knew.

Make the Jaw Clenching Stop

I have developed this thing in adulthood where I clench my jaw when I  am stressed out, to the point where my jaw gets tired. I have had to learn to stretch the muscles to try to get it to stop hurting. This is not a good sign. Today is a jaw clenching day. I'm so tired of jaw clenching days. I really, really love my job. But I also hate it. I love what I do. But I also hate what I do. I love it because it's a job that helps people. And that is good. I hate it because it is so thankless. Don't get me wrong; I'm not one of those people that needs to be thanked all the time. But it would be great if my coworkers and boss didn't seem to be constantly under the impression that I'm not doing ENOUGH. They tell me that they know I work hard and then in the same day, will tell me what ELSE I should be doing, with the time I do not have. Because what I have done is not enough. There needs to be More. Everything needs to be improved on. No one ever seems to think that I rock at anything. When I say I rocked at something, they have to point out how I, in fact, was only passable in my performance. Because, you know, you can always improve. Like I don't have that constant narrative in my head. I know I can always improve. I am WELL AWARE that I am not perfect, and cannot achieve perfection. But thank you, lovely work people, for driving home JUST HOW FLAWED I really am. Just when I thought I was aware of my flaws and the way I suck, you point out more ways. And my anxiety goes into overdrive. You know this, and you still do it. You're jerks. There, I've said it. And admitting you are a jerk does not mean it's okay to continue being one.

Grr.

I hate Mondays.

Dear World: Walk on Me

I feel like the title of this post must be stamped on my forehead. No, really, it must be. I have been ranted at in a very disrespectful way, AGAIN. By the man who says he loves me and could see himself marrying me. But then he says something that is borderline abusive. And after he judged my aforementioned friend for her very disrespectful words she flung at me.

I think he might be sorry. He called today. All he said was "I wanted to see if you were OK."  I said "yes," because in general I was fine, and I'm stupid and didn't think to say, no, I'm not okay, and the way you treated me is not OK, because I suck at standing up for myself. So I said I was fine, and then I asked if he was okay. He said he was fine. We got off the phone. What kind of conversation was that? Why can't I tell people I'm not okay when I'm not okay? Seriously, I don't know how to do it. I don't know why I don't know how to do it.

I want a do-over. I want him to call again, so I can have a real conversation with him. But I don't feel like I can call him, because I think that might be the co-dependent thing to do, since he didn't apologize and I am not allowed to just try to smooth things over. It's so confusing trying to break a habit when you're not sure where the health stops and the unhealthy starts.

The Road to Healing?

So my friend alluded to in the last post apologized to me. Things got too big and she disappointed other people she really respects with this, and was basically brought down to her knees in the situation. I'm not sure that she would have felt bad if there weren't other people involved. I think she would have. It's all so confusing. I don't know what all her motivations are. I feel like we can't be honest with each other anymore. There are too many things at stake for us. I can't tell her things about my feelings and my life because she has lost my trust. I don't trust her to treat my feelings kindly. I don't trust her to not use the information against me. She says she didn't mean the things she said in the outburst, but I don't know if I believe her. Those thoughts have to have come from somewhere. She seems to have a lot of unkind thoughts about me lately.

I'm so tired. I want her to notice how little she knows about me lately. Those nine kinds of pain I wasn't in last week, when I was in shock? I'm in them now. I think that seeing her today for the first time since the big blowup brought out my feelings of hurt, and I am realizing how deep she cut. I have this horrible, codependent way of always wanting to get rid of conflict and smooth things over, and say things are OK even if they aren't, so that everyone can be happy (except me, but I get a buzz off of others' happiness). This time I'm not allowing myself to be OK with how things went down. I've forgiven her, and I'm not angry, but I'm very hurt, and I've made it clear to her that we need to work through those issues, instead of me just ignoring my hurt and saying it's OK. This is all very foreign to me. I don't like it. I want to just say it's all OK. I want to just have happy conversations and interactions and forget about this. I want her to be comfortable, even though she hurt me so much. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she cut a little too deep this time, and I can't just forget it. And, honestly, those who know what happened are keeping me accountable, because they have all made it clear that they think I would not be healthy if I just let this be swept under the rug. Nothing like some peer pressure to make you try to do things right. I don't like this. This feels like the hard way. I feel like we've been getting nowhere for so long, I'm scared to try to keep working at it. Trying to keep working at it got me here. She said horrible things. I was trying everything I could think of. I don't want to fight with her anymore. I'm tired of seeing that pinched look on her face, because I frustrate her so much and she dislikes interacting with me so much.

I love her so dearly. I wish that she could feel that way more often about me.

Wherein My Therapist Tells Me I am Not the Crazy One

Things have not been going well at work. Won't go into details here. Suffice it to say that I had a long period where I wasn't functioning very well at all with the depression. And my boss will not forgive it, and thinks the concept of forgiveness, or absolving an employee of past wrongs is not acceptable. Because heaven forbid that someone who screwed up big time and is punishing herself and struggling all on her own is given a break by other people. Let's make sure the pain is all around, constant, and never relents. Until you either die or have a breakdown at work and quit in a messy painful way. Sounds like a solid plan.

Today, things kind of came to a head. Someone I respect, admire, and aspire to be like in some ways told me how little they think of me. I'm still in shock. I can't believe she said the things she did. I talked over the impending meeting with my therapist this morning, and she told me that the person has classic bully characteristics. I'm not trying to see her like that. I have not been describing incidents with her to people to try to make her wrong. I've been trying to figure out what I might be doing wrong, or could do differently. I've been trying to figure out how to repair things between us. I've been trying to figure out what it is she wants to see that I'm not showing her. My therapist told me that I was handling things well, and it sounds like she is the one handling it with emotion, and not dealing with it objectively. I wonder if her therapist would tell her the same thing.

I want so badly for things to be fixed. I don't know if they can be. I think that the relationship may be permanently damaged. I don't know if it would be healthy to want to be her friend if she did apologize. I doubt she will. Somehow, she maintains that the way she treated me and spoke to me today was justified. I can't just say that's OK, because it's not. I don't understand why she reacts the way she does to me. I don't understand why she doesn't seem to desire a resolution. I don't understand what is at the heart of this. I kind of feel like there's more to this than she is admitting. I don't understand where this is coming from.

I feel so numb. Normally I would be feeling nine kinds of pain. I think that I've been feeling it so much the last few weeks that this incident is just keeping the pain at the high level I've learned to function at. I feel like I've got some magical wall up to protect me from this pain. I know this is the heartbreaking kind. I have no idea where we go from here. I don't even know how to look her in the eye. I don't want to see what is there. How could she think so little of me and trust me so little.

Grownuphood is Stupid.

The older I get, the harder adulthood seems to be. I don't understand it. I feel like things were so much simpler, and the rules were so much clearer when I was younger. Friendship was so much simpler, and the rules were clear. I miss the days when I didn't have friends who compartmentalize like some of them do. It seems so fake and dishonest to me. They feel they can be loyal friends while they are disloyal to me in other parts of life. That is stupid. I feel so un-valued. I feel so untrusted. I don't understand how people function treating relationships like this. I don't understand people who are okay with making people's lives miserable in the name of  "doing a good job" at work. How on earth does that equate doing a good job?

When the Loneliness Gets Real

When someone you love tells you that loving you isn't enough--that they need to move on--the pain is deafening. It's numbing. Life gets unreal. It all feels like a sick joke. And this is ON the meds. I am so, so alone. Friends can't fill his place. Nothing they, or you, or anyone says can make it better. And I don't want to hear anything anyone has to say on this. I don't want to tell my friends, because I don't want to hear them say he's not good enough, or that they knew it, or that there's someone better, or why they think we don't work. I don't want them to agree with me when I say that he's a jerk. I don't want to hear the cold hard facts. I'm not stupid. I know everything they could tell me. But this has thrown me back into a place where I feel so incredibly, horribly isolated in a final, permanent, desperate sort of way. No amount of pep talks will help. In fact, they would just fill me with rage. So I won't tell anyone right now. And I will vent here. And I will turn off the comments, because I don't want to be commiserated with, or talked to at all about this. Not even from you. And I don't want to do this ever, ever again. Unless I can have him back. And I don't think I need to worry about it because no one will be there for me to try with. And I don't want to see him, or talk to him, or smell him. And I want to see him, and talk to him, and smell him. And if I had the chance to see him, and talk to him, and smell him, I would sabatoge it and say something full of venom and push him far away, and be that icy woman he has accused me of. And it would all be because I opened my heart and trusted him and showed him really vulnerable parts of myself, because he said I could trust him, when he didn't really mean that I could trust him, unless things were easy and fun and he was satisfied. Those are the terms to his love. And maybe if I weren't me, I would be enough for him. And maybe if I weren't me, it would be worth it to him to work through the hard stuff, because maybe the thought of not having me in his life would mean something to him.

Weird Teetery Place

First, I need to tell you I found this, which I seriously think is the best description of how depression feels that I have ever read. Ever. Also it's funny and the pictures crack me up. 

I feel like I'm on an anxiety teeter totter right now. It is not fun like real ones. It just has the butterlfly-ey feeling, but like the I'm about to fall off this big teeter totter kind of butterflies. Right now I am feeling vaguely anxious about work tomorrow. I have managed to turn off my work thoughts enough that I am not obsessing about something that is making me anxious. But I have a vague sense that something is about to go very, very wrong. This feeling is only useful when your spidey senses are working correctly. Mine are all out of whack. I'm going to go crazy soon if this doesn't stop. The good news is, the vague feeling is a step up from the all-consuming anxiety where the thought practically eats you alive. So I think the meds are working. But still, I think I went a little crazy while the meds weren't working, and maybe there is no cure for that portion of crazy. This does not bode well.

I'm rambley tonight. The end.

What to Do with All This Interest In Life...

As my meds appear to be working, as they seem to be on some days now, I'm realizing that I've been in a weird rut/holding pattern for several years now. I have been doing what it takes to get by and not much more, and I've been shutting down and shutting out the world whenever possible. As a result, I am so in the habit of not doing the things that interest me, I have to figure out how to have a life again. I let myself get sucked into my computer and then the day is done and I haven't done anything, even though I've had a strange yearning to be productive and do things that make me happy.

So part of the process, I think, is to make a list and intentionally do some things each day before I'm allowed to let the computer suck away my brain. Things like reading my book, writing my thoughts in my little blank book, writing some fiction, blogging, visiting my nieces and nephews, going to their games, getting dinner with some friends I haven't seen in a LONG time, going for walks/jogs, visiting nature, checking out free public events, cleaning/organizing my house, re-committing myself to my religious studies, finding new things to study, exploring the idea of getting a masters or a certificate, listening to music, clean my car for that feeling of accomplishment and... cleanness, do thoughtful things for people like send cards or make them cookies, get a pedicure, purging my house of junk, planning menus and cooking nummy stuff, and finding somewhere to volunteer. See, even a month ago, I couldn't even come up with a list of more than like two things that I enjoy doing that I could do for self care. Because nothing sounded good. I didn't enjoy life. And now, sometimes, I think I might be able to enjoy these things. At least on some days.

Scary Happiness!

I have a friend who has told me a few times that she sometimes thinks I'm afraid to be happy. She also has asked before if I think I might look for things to worry about. I sometimes think she is right. I do seem to latch onto something to worry about, and then just worry away at it. With my struggles with anxiety lately, I've noticed that if I'm anxious about something, and then that thing becomes a non-issue, the feeling of elation is short-lived (right now sometimes even seconds) and then my mind has grabbed onto something new to worry about. Now that the meds are being a wee bit kinder, I'm feeling a little less obsessively anxious, which is fabulous. But, still. Today is Saturday. I don't have to work today. I can't do anything about the things that I need to take care of. I left things at work in a state where there was nothing urgent. I don't have a specific thing I'm worried about, and yet I have an uneasy feeling, like something bad is going to happen. And if I let myself start searching my mind, I have several things on deck that I could spend the day worrying about.

I really need to figure this anxiety thing out. This is the focus of counseling sessions for me. My last counselor was not cutting it. I don't like to reject people, and also I'm quick to think that counseling will not fix me, so I was countering that feeling with a resistance to looking at getting a new counselor. Fortunately, that counselor had some personal things that is keeping her out of the office, and since I need to stay on the counseling bandwagon, I found a new counselor. I have a very good feeling about her. I am fairly certain she will give me the tools I need to move forward a wee bit finally. And she probably won't take some of my excuses and stuff, which both scares and encourages me.

So, I need to do self-care today. And make the most of it. And resist the urge to turn off my brain and check out. Which is what I want to do right now. Being productive is hard. I need a nap.

Deeper and Uglier (or, Where Is the Love)

Just when I think that I have seen the worst it will be for me, and that I can hold onto brighter times in the future, things get worse. And uglier. And my sorrow and anxiety and all those bad feelings delve so deep. If I had the option, I would have had weeks of not getting out of bed. Things have been looking pretty bleak. The world is pretty hard on people struggling with depression, especially when they mess up. Even people who have that shared experience are hard on you. In some respects I think they are harder on you. I am struggling to find an explanation for why friends who say they love me, who have been through some form of this, have so little tolerance for my misery. Perhaps it is because things haven't been as bad for them. Perhaps it is because their ways of coping are different from mine, and they don't understand why I'm not coping like they do. Perhaps it's because they are just as critical of themselves, and this is more about projecting than truly judging me. Whatever it is, it feels devastating to me sometimes.

This perhaps reflects my personal issues with wanting to please people. I really, really, really, want my friends and loved ones (and bosses, and coworkers, and the waiter, and the bus driver...) to think I'm great. I want them to think I'm smart. I want them to think I'm trustworthy, honest, and a solid friend. It's not enough for me to know those things myself. I need other people to see that, and acknowledge that. But, also, I think that most "normal" people would feel a little forsaken if their friends had indicated, when it was taking everything in them to hang on, that they weren't doing enough, and that they were not good enough the way that they were.

I think of one friend in particular. If she were to read this, she would probably dispute it, and say that she had never said I am not good enough. I've seen her do this to other people, so I shouldn't take it so personally, right? The bottom line is, though, that she sends the message, with her irritation, and her dismissal of the things I have to tell her, that if I were more on top of things, I would be more healthy, and my misery is due to my own laziness. Perhaps there is some truth to this. Depression is an ugly tangly thing, and the apathy and lack of interest in activities can lead to being more sedentary, which can then lead to feeling more depressed... it's one of the ugly truths of the disease. But, I spend a lot of time and effort pushing past that. And it's exhausting. That's where I feel like she needs to cut me some slack.

Really, I need to stop worrying about what she thinks. I know that's the healthy thing. But the reality is that we care what people think of us. Especially people we love. We want them to be proud of us. We want them to respect us. We want them to support us.

Why does it have to be so complicated?

So Much Anxiety

I suppose I should be thankful that the amount of anxiety I am feeling right now has not been constant lately. Although, when it was, I was not eating my feelings so much, and I was not the heaviest I have ever been. But it felt like crap emotionally so I suppose I should count my blessings and go for a jog or something.

Tonight I'm feeling anxious and stupid over everything I said and did today. And I am thinking that people are having conversations about me. And I'm thinking people aren't answering texts on purpose, and not just because they are busy or distracted or, you know, having a life. Being inside my head tonight is exhausting.

The crappy thing is that I was looking forward to this weekend all week. I got to spend time with some of my favorite people, and do fun things that were totally non-work related. I should be happy and content right now. It really irritates me that I don't feel happy and content right now. But that just ratchets up the anxiety, because I'm irritated with myself for being like this, and feeling like a crazy person, which makes me think that if people are talking, or avoiding, or whatever they are doing, I wouldn't blame them. Because I am a crazy person.

Currently my man seems to be dodging my call/text. I'm fairly certain that is not paranoia and anxiety, but that I'm actually aware of what he is doing. He's frustrated with me for not being what he wants me to be. But clearly there is something about me that IS what he wants me to be, or he would not be as IN as he is, and he would not be so irritated, because it wouldn't matter so much. Honestly and truly, I'm not sure what it is he sees in me. I don't understand why, when he is so frustrated, he is still here. Well, clearly not literally here, or I would not be musing about how he's avoiding me. But I can't figure what he DOES see in me. And when I see him really loving me it makes me feel all panicky. And I want to put up good safe walls. And I don't know why I do this. And I don't know why it panicks me. I think my mother's cool reception to physical affection from my dad in my formative years have had a larger impact than I have ever realized. Because I catch myself doing it too. Apparently I subconsciously think that's normal. And I reflexively react coolly. What is wrong with me? I feel like I am balancing on a very narrow beam over a very deep ravine. that is the feeling in my chest and in my gut. Like only a string is holding me up and away from catastrophe. Why on earth do I feel like that?

Fleeting Moment

I had a brief moment of honest connection with a friend today. She has been so wrapped up in her own life, and of course assumes there is nothing to know about mine. Today I had a moment of letting her see the raw despair I feel. She asked if I was ok. I am not really sure what I said. I don't even know how I deflected, but I think I did pretty quickly after that. There's a part of me that thinks that this is sad. There's another part of me that knows that honesty about where I'm at will not get me the soothing support that I wish for. She would tell me how I need to do things differently. How I need to try harder at counseling. That it will get better. That I need to stop holding onto negative crap. In other words, she will miss the point, and the honesty, of the moment. I don't need her to tell me how she sees me, my life, or life in general. What is the point of that? I mean, don't get me wrong. I would like to have her tell me all the amazing truths she sees about me. I would love it if she saw amazing truths in me. All she has shown me lately is ugly truth she sees in me. And how she has no faith in me. She loves me, but I'm so immensely flawed and in her mind I just need to embrace how horribly flawed I am and pretend it's beautiful. She doesn't even think my flaws are beautiful anymore.

I miss that friendship. I hate the restricted little box she has placed our friendship in. She doesn't even see how she is strangling our friendship. She doesn't get what friendship can be. How nourishing it can be. Any real connection is too much for her, at least for more than brief beautiful moments. And I have no power at this point. I feel like I'm just a bystander, witnessing as the life is choked out of any good part of our relationship.

I wish I were stronger. I wish she were stronger. I wish I were brave enough for a little honesty right now. I wish that bravery would not equal stupidity. I hate that this passive, awful place I'm in is what people like my counselor and my boss think is prudent and wise. Stupid. What is the point of being this person. I think I may have lost the things I love most about myself.

Love is Stupid.

So, kind of been seeing this guy. I say kind of, because he's not really doing a very good job of courting me. We talk most days. Today, he could have seen me. It's Valentine's Day. And, you know, whatever, it's a commercial holiday pretty much centered around spending money to show love. But, would have liked a little valentine. Something sentimental. I'm a sucker for genuine sentiment. Called him at the end of my work day. He's hanging out with a "buddy." Again, whatever. But at the same time, I want sentiment, dang it! 

I'm sure I probably set myself up for this. I choose to accept relationships like this, instead of expecting something different. But the something different doesn't seem to be out there for me. And it's not that he never shows sentiment. I just wish I could have that "normal" boyfriend experience. I want him to have moments where he's so excited to make me smile he forgets about him. Just moments. Because that's how I want to be for him. Ugh. Love is stupid. 

Valleys of Sorrow.

Since my last post I have been through what I can safely say is the most hellish bout of depression I have ever had. My whole life seemed close to crumbling. I got pretty close to ruining it in some major ways. I don't want to go into details here, but just rest assured, almost every facet of my life was touched.

I finally went to my doctor, and switched meds. Life is so much better. I won't say it all had to do with the meds. I worked hard to get out of that horrible valley. I agonized and prayed and talked and did what needed to be done. But the meds have unfogged my head. I feel hope. I feel life might bring happy things.

I would never wish that kind of anguish on anyone. I know I am not alone in feeling deep anguish. And I know that depression is not the only thing to bring it. I dread the day I lose a parent or other close loved one to death. I have seen the anguish of close friends over horrible circumstances in their lives. The only thing I can hope is that my faith will see me through, and that God will bring me comfort. Through all that anguish, I know He was there, loving me. I still don't understand why He wouldn't lift it from my shoulders when I first asked. But I do believe it was Him that lifted it. I think I've probably taken some deep lessons away that will aid me in the future. I know it deepened my empathy. I pray I never feel so wretched again.