Like, as in, REALLY depressed.
Like, as in SO depressed that Husband cut short his Vegas trip to come home and rescue me (and the kids.) He came in the door at midnight Wednesday, booked me a hotel in Nashville, and I was on the road by 11 am Thursday. You see, I got really depressed a few years ago and Husband lovingly carted me off to the hospital- as in MENTAL hospital. It was a bit too much for me. I realized very quickly that MENTAL hospitals are for the truly insane. I’m not truly insane. Just depressed. I decided then and there that the $350 per day would be much better spent on a spa weekend if or when it ever happened again.
So this time, I chose the weekend away- sans hospital.
I don’t feel much better though.
It was a great weekend. I stayed at the new Aloft hotel, which is the absolute greatest hotel chain in the world. I got a massage, spent some time at the Rescue Mission serving lunch, went to an art gallery and wandered around downtown for a while in the rain, and of course, I shopped.
But I don’t feel much better.
I was able to get some perspective though.
I thoroughly hate who I am.
Well, not all of me, but a rather large chunk.
But, sitting in the lobby of the Frist center, listening to beautiful acoustic guitar music, I remembered that I’m not so bad. I get bad when I become mired in the yuck.
Here’s the deal: I take comfort in sadness, pain, and hurt- sometimes even anger. Hurt and sadness are the big winners in my life. I am addicted to them. I like the way they feel inside me. I like the pangs that I get when I think of how bad things are or of old hurtful situations. I don’t like them as in- they make me smile or feel good, but I feel a comfortable familiarity, and a reassurance when those feelings are present. It sounds a lot like what people who cut themselves say. They like the feeling. I just don’t physically cut myself- I emotionally and mentally cut myself. And then it feeds and grows and pretty soon, voila! I’m here!
My greatest warmth comes from self deprecation: I am no good. I completely suck as a mother. I married a gay man so I would never have to worry about being good enough, or having the positive feelings that come from being good enough.
Aha! That is the big one du jour. Husband and I discussed this yesterday, but decided that it would not be solved or put to any positive use to keep up the discussion. Is it possible for me to get over my complete lack of self worth while in this marriage?
This morning I told him that it would serve me well to turn the thought around to resemble something like this: I am the ONE girl in the world that he would marry. There are a million and six guys that he could hook up with, but only a very few girls, and I am IT! How cool does that make me?
How cool should that make me?
Sitting there, listening and watching the people living their lives, I remembered that I love art. I love music. Its not like I forgot, but I convinced myself that since I wasn’t a REAL 100% art lover, as in- knowledgeable about it, fanatic about it, a collector, I shouldn’t bother with it. But that’s wrong. I can go to a gallery now and then, and if I’m not inspired, I can leave and be uninspired. That doesn’t mean anything. Right? Am I right here?
Same with music. I love music. But I’m not ALL omnicient when it comes to music so I just don’t bother. WRONG-O. I’ve boxed myself into such a black and white world. Perfection or squat. And since I’m not perfect, I’m squat.
Imagine being married to me.
Imagine being one of my kids.
I’ve spent my life- I remember feeling like this as a 5th grader- thinking that I should/could be better. Yes, we should always be improving ourselves, but I’ve taken it to the outer reaches of sanity and skewed self improvement into a sadistic practice.
I, as I am right now, am enough.
I don’t need rock hard abs, I don’t need smooth skin, I don’t need straight A popular kids, I don’t need porn star sex, I don’t need an in depth knowledge of the scriptures, I don’t need better temple attendance, I don’t need a fabulous wardrobe, I don’t need a stunning home, I don’t need a college degree, I don’t need anything more than what I am right now.
I will follow my path, one step at a time, and it that path leads to one of the above, then I will go through each experience as I continue on the path. I will acknowledge that nothing amounts to a destination, the path never concludes until death.
Pretty words, and mildly comforting until it is time to lift my foot and lay it down ahead of where it just lifted from. I can’t even brush my teeth.
I wonder if this is even something that I can learn to overcome? Is there a therapist out there good enough to work through this with me? Anybody know one?
Until Dr. Right miraculously materializes, I will continue to plod along on my course, attempting to at least not lose ground, if not gaining any ground. Thinking about functioning tomorrow is too much right now. I’ll just work on right now. How’s that?
Do I really need to post this?
Yes, because I need help.