A life in thirds
After the implosion what relic will remain, skimming the event horizon?
That line has been stuck in my head. I haven't found a use for it yet, but it about sums things up. Spending a lot of time with myself has made me a very introverted person. Perhaps, I was that way all along? Perhaps all of the to-do's, to-see's, to-make's were more of a distraction than anything.
Last week, I hit my lowest low since the last one. The kind of low that is imobilizing. Too low to cry, too low even for self-pity. Simply low. Oddly, when this strikes, some part of me is always distant, non-emotive and hanging out on the outside looking in. This is also the part of me that never let me have a good "blackout" when drunk, so that in the morning, I'd always be aware of exactly what an ass I'd made of myself the night before. This part of me is very good at chiding after the fact, though no amount of squawking seems to help during whatever is going on...
What makes this different, from the usual? I have no scapegoat to blame it on. I suspect it's been this way for years, only I've always been able to pass the blame -- I'm depressed because of this or that, or because I'm stressed about this or that, or this person or that person or I'm incredibly busy at work, or generally unhappy or whatever. This time, however, life is good. Life is very good in fact. But the bottom line is, I'm not enjoying it. Even now, having come up from the depths of last week, the following manic cleaning and running about and anger, and the beginnings of slipping starting up again.
But the outside part of me says to just get up off my ass and do something. Or points out how many folks have it so much worse, and THEY at least have focus to complete any one task given to them. Or that when I'm older I'm going to hate myself for frittering time away during my youth, or... well, all those arguments.
And when I'm up I just find myself consuming things -- wanting, needing, etc. As if I'm trying to fill some void - jealous of the lives others are leading that I couldshouldoughtta be living in some way. It won't fill. I feel like some black hole that just keeps sucking everything up and not spitting anything back out again.
In comparison, right now, at this exact moment, I don't feel much of anything. I go through the motions, but nothing is real, I'm drained. I have no focus, no patience, no stamina. I'm constantly overwhelmed when I shouldn't be. I have loved ones that need me, and I find it difficult to be there for them. Friends that are going through loss and heartache and God knows what else, and I'm so wrapped up, stagnated, immobile that I can't respond. I've become socially awkward, shy, linguistically stale, and sloppy.
Normally I wouldn't write this, but I need to. What I need to do is solve the problem. Right now is a moment of clarity that I need to document -- so that I can come back to it. Right now where I can remember what it felt like to sit hunched over a keyboard playing mindless games for hours, or stare blankly at the wall, or wander room to room listing the things that need to be done and not starting. It's not right, and there's nothing environmental to blame it on this time.
Quitting my job, I think let to this. Not the quitting per se, but ridding myself of the most consistant distraction. To be honest, I thought this might happen but I hoped not. I thought this would give me some time to sort myself out. What it did was allow me to see that there really is something here, beyond my skill, that needs to be addressed.
And right now, while I'm not mired in it. I need to address it. I always thought of depression as a problem that other people had, and understood that they couldn't neccessarily help it. I always figured my problems were fleeting, or environmental, or even seasonal. I even figured that okay, that seasonal depression might be a problem for me. But, looking back over some old posts, some old journals kept years ago I see that this has been a trend for years and I've just been very good at rationalizing it, or holding it off, or blaming it away.
I never thought it would apply to me. But really I think it does. What it feels like is that I have no control over it -- like a lingering cold, after awhile, you forget what it feels like to breath without coughing, and then gradually, it gets better and you forget what it feels like to always be coughing. Intellectually you understand it, but cannot recall what it really feels like, only that it was unpleasant. Like I said before, I stand outside myself and watch, and can't do anything about it until it's passed.
Having been witness to the end of so many lives recently - I don't want to alternately fritter away what I have and spend the rest of it in vice. It's a life in thirds - down, up, and myself. I know I like myself when I'm here. I just need to find away to get me here and keep me here.
So I'm going to start researching solutions. Perhaps therapy is neccessary, I don't know. But from what I know, and what I feel, is that this is a disease or illness - if I had bad psoriasis, I would treat it, or pneumonia, or even acne. I think my mind deserves the same.
That line has been stuck in my head. I haven't found a use for it yet, but it about sums things up. Spending a lot of time with myself has made me a very introverted person. Perhaps, I was that way all along? Perhaps all of the to-do's, to-see's, to-make's were more of a distraction than anything.
Last week, I hit my lowest low since the last one. The kind of low that is imobilizing. Too low to cry, too low even for self-pity. Simply low. Oddly, when this strikes, some part of me is always distant, non-emotive and hanging out on the outside looking in. This is also the part of me that never let me have a good "blackout" when drunk, so that in the morning, I'd always be aware of exactly what an ass I'd made of myself the night before. This part of me is very good at chiding after the fact, though no amount of squawking seems to help during whatever is going on...
What makes this different, from the usual? I have no scapegoat to blame it on. I suspect it's been this way for years, only I've always been able to pass the blame -- I'm depressed because of this or that, or because I'm stressed about this or that, or this person or that person or I'm incredibly busy at work, or generally unhappy or whatever. This time, however, life is good. Life is very good in fact. But the bottom line is, I'm not enjoying it. Even now, having come up from the depths of last week, the following manic cleaning and running about and anger, and the beginnings of slipping starting up again.
But the outside part of me says to just get up off my ass and do something. Or points out how many folks have it so much worse, and THEY at least have focus to complete any one task given to them. Or that when I'm older I'm going to hate myself for frittering time away during my youth, or... well, all those arguments.
And when I'm up I just find myself consuming things -- wanting, needing, etc. As if I'm trying to fill some void - jealous of the lives others are leading that I couldshouldoughtta be living in some way. It won't fill. I feel like some black hole that just keeps sucking everything up and not spitting anything back out again.
In comparison, right now, at this exact moment, I don't feel much of anything. I go through the motions, but nothing is real, I'm drained. I have no focus, no patience, no stamina. I'm constantly overwhelmed when I shouldn't be. I have loved ones that need me, and I find it difficult to be there for them. Friends that are going through loss and heartache and God knows what else, and I'm so wrapped up, stagnated, immobile that I can't respond. I've become socially awkward, shy, linguistically stale, and sloppy.
Normally I wouldn't write this, but I need to. What I need to do is solve the problem. Right now is a moment of clarity that I need to document -- so that I can come back to it. Right now where I can remember what it felt like to sit hunched over a keyboard playing mindless games for hours, or stare blankly at the wall, or wander room to room listing the things that need to be done and not starting. It's not right, and there's nothing environmental to blame it on this time.
Quitting my job, I think let to this. Not the quitting per se, but ridding myself of the most consistant distraction. To be honest, I thought this might happen but I hoped not. I thought this would give me some time to sort myself out. What it did was allow me to see that there really is something here, beyond my skill, that needs to be addressed.
And right now, while I'm not mired in it. I need to address it. I always thought of depression as a problem that other people had, and understood that they couldn't neccessarily help it. I always figured my problems were fleeting, or environmental, or even seasonal. I even figured that okay, that seasonal depression might be a problem for me. But, looking back over some old posts, some old journals kept years ago I see that this has been a trend for years and I've just been very good at rationalizing it, or holding it off, or blaming it away.
I never thought it would apply to me. But really I think it does. What it feels like is that I have no control over it -- like a lingering cold, after awhile, you forget what it feels like to breath without coughing, and then gradually, it gets better and you forget what it feels like to always be coughing. Intellectually you understand it, but cannot recall what it really feels like, only that it was unpleasant. Like I said before, I stand outside myself and watch, and can't do anything about it until it's passed.
Having been witness to the end of so many lives recently - I don't want to alternately fritter away what I have and spend the rest of it in vice. It's a life in thirds - down, up, and myself. I know I like myself when I'm here. I just need to find away to get me here and keep me here.
So I'm going to start researching solutions. Perhaps therapy is neccessary, I don't know. But from what I know, and what I feel, is that this is a disease or illness - if I had bad psoriasis, I would treat it, or pneumonia, or even acne. I think my mind deserves the same.
posted by Laura | 2:43 PM
7 Comments:
You've got mail.
L, I'm not ignoring this, I just haven't had the time to give it the response it deserves. Wanna come down to sunny florida for a vacation? I've got good coffee and a brand new couch! :) Seriously, I'll be home from work early afternoon, if you want to chat.
Love you, chica.
1. You have mail
2. Open this can of worms and see what you think. I'd be fascinated to see what verifiable evidence exists for any of it
I think writing your thoughts out like this is probably a pretty good therapy unto itself. Black moods, especially ones that seem to stretch on through seasons without a pin-pointed reason, are hard to pin down and define.
One of my friends finally went to a doctor for her depression and confessed to him that she felt guilty for asking for help because everything in her life seemed just fine---no death, divorce, money problems, etc. She just felt sad and rootless.
She was glad she went though.
It's good to pay attention to our mind. A body's health makes it obvious when it needs, but minds are more elusive.
And thanks again for introducing yourself. :)
That is just it, life is going great and way back in your history at some point or points you made a deal... to put your feelings and needs on a shelf, to deal with some major crisis or hurt some other time where and when it would be "safe", when other people and things didn't need you to stay strong and whole.
Well here it is... you put yourself on hold until there were no other calls coming in (so you could give yourself and ask others for the attention you deserve of course). The lines are clear so you are left to deal with the one irrate, neglected customer left on the line, yourself... or your inner child.
"Healing the Inner Child" by Charles L. Whitfield may be of interest to you. I am doing basically ok lately and still find this book to be very interesting and highly enlightening. Good perspectives for understanding people around me, family dynamics and sheding light on some of the choices I have made.
Ideally I think most everyones "Inner Child" could use a bit more attention. From what I have been reading though you may find it highly relevant.
nope sorry, it was "Healing the Child Within". Poigniant.
-raven
Hey Laura,
I don't work (have a "job") that is either. it's more difficult NOT to work than it is to work. Work forces you out of yourself. I spend way too much time alone, but I've just gotten used to it. Therapy might help, reading might help, exercise might help, etc etc. But what it comes down to is this emptiness I think we all have as human beings that is just there. It's wanting to feel meaningful. Some fill it with a job, shopping, others with writing. Writing helps me. But you can't write all day long (actually you can and it's pretty fun) but if you can't, get out of the house, read a book, volunteer (I volunteer at a nursing home), make a schedule. I've had to do this too. people really don't understand how difficult it is to be "homemaker" --a job so underappreciated that there's no pay, benefits or even empathy for the amount of isolation it leads to. Anyways, that wasn't very cheerful but...
you have my email. I'll give you my # and we can have homemaker chats!
"So, have you done the dishes yet?"
"Me neither."
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