I judge myself a lot lately for writing here as frequently as I do. I don’t feel as though I have anything new or exciting or particularly thoughtful to express. I used to think this blog was going to be the beginning of my pathway to writing for io9 or some other cool online nerd publication. I used to think I was going somewhere.
I don’t always feel like I’m going anywhere anymore, but I need to keep writing here. I need to keep spilling my guts.
Thank you for the space.
(I miss you.)
Depression check in, my dudes! So, at the risk of hyperbole, everything hurts all the time. My stomach is upset, my head hurts, I listened to the entirety of “American Pie” this morning unironically. It’s just been that kind of day. And, as usual, nothing is “wrong.” Everything is fine, some things are really good even. But I cannot shake the feeling in my bones that I am a failure, that I am a disappointment, that I will forever pay for all the bad choices I have ever made. That I am being punished and that I deserve it.
My therapist has to remind me not everyone thinks these kinds of thoughts, and I am grateful for the reminder, but it also makes me feel really lonely and crazy. How could everyone not think these thoughts?! They are as common to me as old Saturday Night Live quotes or Disney lyrics. They are constant, they are unending. I don’t know when that little, blonde-headed child started to hate themself so furiously, but if I had a fucking time machine, I would zip immediately to that day and I would ply them with every positive thing I could think of.
Why am I like this? I am surrounded by love and by hot tea and by soft stuffed animals, and I AM FINE. Why am I still sad?
I feel like a liar. I feel like a traitor to my family. I should have more to offer than this. I shouldn’t be as needy as I am. I shouldn’t be as poor as I am. I should have more to show for a lifetime of love and support and for my Mom sending me Easter baskets in the mail even as an adult. Right? Right?
Please, tell me what to do. Somebody? Maybe that’s what this blog is sometimes. (I’m sorry, I am fucking feeling it tonight.) Maybe this is crying into the void and hoping there is a magical answer on the other side. (( know you might be going through it too. I don’t mean to put that sort of pressure on you, my dear.)
So, I have to keep talking, have to keep writing, have to keep swimming. I am a pelagic depression shark, and I can’t stop moving or I’ll sink, I fear. You can always dip out if this is hard to hear. I get it, I promise. I just need to talk. You don’t have to listen.
I have my cinnamon tea and I’m listening to The Beatles and this is my forever promise: I won’t go anywhere if you won’t. We have so much left to see and do. There is a layer of me that really, truly believes that. It is the weird, optimistic foundation of me, despite all the film and funk of sadness and grime. I will not take it away from myself.
Unclench your jaw. Relax your shoulders. Keep breathing. Wash your pillowcases and make yourself some tea.
We’re going to get there one day.