Monday, January 12, 2009
I'm A Loser, Baby
I don't know. I just don't know.
I'm having a hard time of it recently. Just...nothing new, nothing big, just a hard time.
Nothing's lighting my fire and even at play practice I'm feeling low. My jokes come out lame, my inexperience shows when I say a line and then ask the directors, "Was that right?"
Mr. Moon's depressed too. The car biz, real estate, the mysterious electrical problems in the house.
Having a loser wife.
And I should be the good partner I want to be and go find a job which seems to me to be more than impossible. Just having to make a phone call for a reservation or an appointment is enough to freak me out for an entire day. Even going to Publix, my safe, safe place is stressful. I have to force myself to go walk, which I do, but it's hard.
In short, I'm heavily invested in feeling like the world's biggest loser.
Loser, loser, loser.
What am I good for? What is my purpose on this planet? Why can't I pull up my petticoats and be a normal human being who functions?
I joke about how Caroline Kennedy is being called a role model for returning-to-work mothers but I'm just as in awe, or perhaps more so, of women who go out and get a job at a library or a school or a Circle K convenience store when the situation calls for it and I feel just as inadequate and unfit to do something like that as I would to be a United States senator.
It's no joke, feeling like this.
It tugs at my heart to feel like I'm not being there for my man when he has always been so solidly there for me.
Everything just seem so overwhelming from trying to figure out the rest of my life to filing my fingernails. I remember once a friend of mine said it was a major life crisis for him when he ran out of toothpaste.
I laughed then.
I ain't laughing now.
Because it's not funny when it's happening to you.
And the worst part, the very worst part, is the guilt that accompanies all of this. The little guilt-worm lodged in the ear which continuously shouts, "What RIGHT do you have to be depressed? You're faking this bullshit so you don't have to be a contributing member of society."
And you know what? Part of me is completely convinced this is true.
And the other part of me feels like every day I've been set to plowing forty rocky acres with a dull plow and no mule and so what's the point of even getting up?
But I know that depression has its cycle and even with meds and even with doing all the other things that can alleviate it and make it not so miserable, it has to run its cycle.
Which it will do. Eventually.
I don't actually believe this but I know it to be true. There's a difference.
So. Until things lighten up a little I'm afraid I'm going to be the worst sort of self-involved blogger who offers only the most self-involved and ridiculous blogging. I honestly am not writing all this to get nice comments from the beautiful people who visit here. I'm writing it because it's what's going through my mind, day and night and night and day and it's honestly all I have to offer at the moment.
I SHOULD just shut-up but let's face it- I'm not that ready to give up.
And who knows? The way these things work, I could be filled with the joy and spirit of life by tomorrow and have something pithy and poetic to say about, oh, I don't know. Anything. Anything at all. Besides my own pitiful, non-poetic self.
I'll work on it.