Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Some People Go To Therapy; I Have a Blog

I'm sad and pathetic.

I don't mean that in the, "oh hey, strangers on the internet, I'm feeling bad about myself; please tell me why I'm awesome" way.  (Although, feel free to tell me I'm awesome if you're so inclined.)

What I mean is that I feel sad a lot of the time, and compared to who I was, who I'd like to be, and what I know I'm capable of, I'm pathetic.*

It's understandable.  I spent all of my 20s and a good portion of my 30s coping with death, helping other people cope with death, financially supporting my now-husband-and-father-in-law/then-boyfriend-and-his-father, and working a series of jobs I loathed, and that effectively eviscerated my self-esteem.  As someone who has struggled with depression a good chunk of her life, and who seems to have a familial predisposition towards it, you can imagine what a fucking ray of sunshine this made me.  (Short answer: Not very sunny at all.)

So I did the rational thing.  I moved.  I didn't want to live in Florida any more, and change of scenery will do me good and force some much needed changes, right?  I found a new place, met new people, started doing things I enjoy, and very patiently waited to heal.  SPOILER ALERT: moving does not make it magically better.

It's been a year and a few months, and, in fact, I ain't anywhere near better.  Don't get me wrong; I've improved.  In fact, improving has been part of the problem.  Because I'm not self-abusive, feeling despondent, or trying desperately not to be suicidally inclined to jab pens in my eyes, I've been able to pretend everything is A-OK.  It's not, but I'm functional enough for my old friend avoidance to kick in.

This past few weeks have been especially rough.  Right on the heels of Ducky and I getting married, I got bad family news.  Sick mom, bad family news.  I also had a very clear blueprint of the direction I was letting my life go.  It was not pretty.  I managed to keep it together for a few weeks, but last night I finally lost my shit in a spectacular way.

I don't have quiet meltdowns, by the way.  I'm sure my neighbors love this about me.  I'd be more inclined to feel bad, if I didn't live in tiny, shitty, low-rent apartments.  All I have to say to my neighbors is, I haven't got people I owe money to banging on my door at 3am, so you will cope with my emotional trauma, motherfuckers.

Anyway, to sum up, I'm more than a little broken, but that's fine.  I'm not tin-hat-on-the-side-of-the-road broken so that's a plus in my column, and I'm trying not to wind up stay-in-your-house-and-never-accomplish-anything-while-you-drink-and-wait-to-die broken.  Also good!

P.S.  If you want to read someone delineating what depression and avoidance are like in an actually funny way, instead of just rambling in an over-long blog post, check out Hyperbole and a Half.

*  Feel free to ignore this whole post.  This is me, explaining things to myself, reminding myself why I don't have my shit together, and that it's OK.  I'm still good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.


Neesa said...

Hey, I still like you. I have a soft spot in my heart for broken people. We'll be like the toys on the island of broken toys, except we'll be like "Fuck you Santa! We're taking this bitch sled for a joyride!"

wecrosscreek said...

Hey "A",
Hang in there girl. If it wasn't for the "lows" we would not have the "Highs". Not much on wisdom myself so I tend to try and lean on others. I'll leave you with this quote and the knowledge you got friends... everywhere!
Best to you and The "Duck,

"Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant." - Horace

Anonymous said...

Lady A! Sorry this is sooo late, but I just wanted to say "hey" and "hang" in there. I hope everything is working out for you and for what it's worth I do understand, and can relate. Please know that even though it's been quite a while, I want you to know that I count you as a friend.

Now, draw some comics!

Mutt (Jack)