Being emotionally healthy, I thought, meant that I would be this wonderfully happy and amazing woman.
I was wrong.
What it really means is that I have become a vulnerable woman, which is a huge leap for me and very healthy, but with all that comes feelings. I have spent the majority of my life wrapped in a cocoon of trying not to feel anything. It was self-protective. It meant that I couldn’t get hurt, and when I first entered therapy one of the things I told my therapist was that “I don’t feel anything.” I just kind of went through life and did what I needed to do and had fun times and bad times and became pretty successful. But inside I felt pretty emotionally numb.
Well Glory Be! I no longer feel that way any longer. I have matured. I have been through quite a bit of self-study.
And now I feel a whole lot. Mostly, I just feel sad though.
I think it stems from my past relationship where I learned, despite having my heart ripped out of my chest, how to be vulnerable. And I am forever thankful for that. But because I was vulnerable with a man, I also felt the great loss of, well, having my heart ripped out of my chest. And it hurt. Boy did it hurt. And I cried. A lot.
Which I’m not really used to. And I’m not so sure how great that felt.
Which is exactly the point according to my therapist. He’s very proud of me for feeling.
And while I am mostly over my heart-break, I have been feeling this sense of listlessness and aimless and purposeless lately. I don’t know how to really describe it. I’m tired a lot. I don’t have any urge to do anything other than what’s needed: work and kids. When I mentioned this to my therapist last week, he looked at me and said, “You’re depressed.”
NO. That can’t be, I told him. I’ve only been depressed once before in my life when I was about to and then married to Luke’s father. During that time I couldn’t get off the couch. I could barely function. Right now, I’m fully functioning. I’m just in a funk.
My therapist said, “What you had then was severe depression. Right now, you just have depression.”
And then I cried. See: emotionally healthy.
So this week, after accepting that I am, in fact, depressed, I went to my therapist and asked, “Ok. How do I fix this?”
Because before when I was depressed all it took was me ending my relationship with Luke’s father and I was back to being happy. Like, within a day.
But the sad news is that there isn’t something I can really do right now other than to force myself to get out of the house, not sleep all day when I have the chance. All the things I just want to do so badly right now.
And I can’t seem to figure out why I’m depressed. My therapist asked me how I view myself. My first response was “boring.” Then I cried.
He then said, “So you don’t like yourself very much right now, do you?” My honest answer was “No.” I cried.
I told him I sit on my porch, smoking a cigarette, and wish for cancer. Why? Why would I wish that, I asked.
“Because for some reason you think you deserve some form of punishment,” he said.
Why? Why would I want to punish myself? I know I’m a good person. I do good things. I’m a good mom, friend, teacher.
Oh, the mystery of depression. And the great disconnect between the intellectual (I know I’m this…) and the emotional (I feel terrible. I want cancer. I can’t stop crying.).
I feel like I’m living someone else’s life–a sad, boring, pathetic life. And I hate that. Mostly I hate this because it feels like such a first world problem and I’m educated enough to know that there are people who are way worse than me. Why should I be complaining? What gives me the right to feel depressed when I have such a good life?
Ugh. Mostly, I just want to hibernate and come out feeling alive again.
But I can’t do that.
So, for now, I’m just a bit stuck. Which makes me feel even worse.
P.S. I’m not allowing any comments on this post. Sorry but I can’t take the “it’ll get better/chin up/can I do anything for you” comments. Also, if you call me, I probably won’t return your call. Right now, I just need to be. Be sad. Figure it out.
God damn being emotionally healthy. God damn crying all the time. God damn feeling.