Monday, May 12, 2014

In the Rip Current

The funny thing about depression is that it isn't funny.

Okay, crappy joke... but you get my point.

I've been struggling with depression since I was a preteen. A lot of reading and self awareness has kept me alive this long. Some could say that it was just regular teenage angst or "everyone gets sad". Both of those could be true, I suppose, for someone else. What I'm feeling is debilitating. I keep telling myself to not be sad about what I haven't done but for what I've tried and failed.

I try to remind myself that there are always worse ways to live. I keep telling myself that I'm making things worse by being so negative about it all. Depression is when all of these rationalities gleefully dance on the surface while all the despair and anguish fester in the depths. Being depressed feels like you are carrying the world when someone has only asked you for a sip of water. I feel as though I'm drowning. Physically. I got caught in a rip current once as a kid, I know the feeling of swimming with all my might and not moving an inch forward. I know the feeling of gasping for air only to catch a mouth full of water. I know the feeling of helplessness. These are all the feelings I am feeling now. My chest is tight, my knees are weak and all I can bring myself to do is cry.

A normal person, a non-depressed person, would dust themselves off and have their pity-party for one day or maybe even a few hours and then drag themselves into the momentum of living a fully functioning life. Depression is knowing what you need to do (or in some cases being so lost in the depression you can't see a way out) but not finding the energy or even the self-worth to pursue it.

Today, today I put a foot forward even though I feel like both legs are broken. We discussed selling everything we own to maybe grab a chance to put a roof over our heads again. I just got to a place where I could be fond of my material goods again... just in time to decide who fucking cares anymore. I had gotten to where I could pack my entire existence into a tiny hatchback car. A car smart cars would park beside because they looked like my car but micro. I can do that again. I can. At a moments notice I was ready to pack all of my shit up and cross state lines looking for somewhere else to live paycheck to paycheck. I've gotten that feeling again. This time, I have a family. I have a husband that hugs me and kisses my forehead when I am sobbing uncontrollably because I can't muster the energy or the self-worth to go out in public. I have a baby that was kissing my knee and hugging my arm because I was too sad to lift my head. I have support in the form of my family. A family I chose. When I was crying out of reflex I opened my text messages to whine to someone about my woes and then I looked up to see Hubby, staring at me with worried eyes. I put my phone down and told him what I was going to text whoknowswho. I realized if I want the kind of life partner that I can express not only the good but the bad too, then I should do that. So I did.

I wish I could say it's all magically better now. I wish I could say in that moment he got a call for an amazing job with a starter bonus... but this isn't the movies. This isn't a witty coming of age film. This isn't the hallmark channel.

Last week my grandmother told me that if I didn't believe in god then I'd have no one to turn to. I took it as her saying she is only helping us as much as she is only because her bible told her so; if we needed anything else we were shit out of luck. I suppose she was right. It seems that in this town, unless you have a bible in your hand and attend church on Sunday our bum luck happened to us because we were smited by god for denying his love into our heart. My grandmother's church is busy hosting events and going door to door asking for money to help support their mission act in Jamaica. So you see my issue with religion and how I feel the people of Jamaica are being bribed into a religion. It's cruel for me to watch. It's cruel when someone offers me prayer instead of networking to find my husband a job or them even giving me five dollars. I'd rather take a few quarters than hear you'll pray for me, kthanx.

I understand the power of persuasion and how you can convince yourself that everything will be okay and it can make you fix your situation because you encouraged yourself through persuasion to make it happen. I get it. Prayer can work that way (scientifically, though psychology) because you are putting into words your desires that can manifest them into real things through self persuasion. I get that. This is the reason I like to make lists. Lists would be my version of prayer. There is a song a fell in love with a few years ago and it's hook says, "If you talk about it, it's a show/ but if you move about it, then it's a go." I wrote that sentence on the top of my bathroom mirror and read it every day. I listened to the song while I ran and day dreamed about the future. I made lists under the sentence of things I wanted to complete. I completed the list one by one. Where has my drive gone? I guess I never expected to find myself back in this place. I always kind of saw myself a drift at sea awaiting for my anchor. My anchor being now Hubby. I was never sure what the anchor would be-- Marriage and baby were far down the list. I was aspiring for a great job or some venture. I could have ended up in school again or in a job I liked or liked enough to pay my bills. I could've sold everything I owned to buy a plane ticket to a place I could find a way to live.

Now that my anchor is also afloat I worry I'm losing my grip on the reality I had created for myself. I guess in a way I'm disappointed in myself for becoming so dependent on someone else. My mother always told me to never let a man control my life, financially or otherwise. "Always have a way out." She'd say. "Never let them get the best of you." She'd say. I let that go deep to my core. I always had an exit door. I moved to Alaska with enough cash for a one way ticket home stuffed in my pocket. I moved to Greensboro without a love interest in sight. For years my roommates were never romantical but purely financial need. My car was in my name so I always had a way out. Don't misread me-- I have no intentions of leaving my marriage. My point is: If I had kept with my #1 rule than maybe I would have had a platform to fall back on instead of all of us being in this situation. I wouldn't have had to depend on someone else because no matter what our connection I would have enough to just barely keep our head afloat. I feel like I failed. Worse, I failed my family. I can't even be suicidal because I have a daughter and husband that would suffer the most. I just feel shitty, all the way around. Shitty. I'm at the ultimate bottom of my emotional strength. I'm spent.

So, I guess what I'm saying is... buy my shit, help a mother out. Or pray for me... whatever you think will help me out most.

By pray for me, I mean buy my shit.

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