In fact, I'm still taking it hard.
Oh God, I'm taking it really hard. I didn't even want to mention anything, but hell, it's just all spilling out...
I thought I had an intuition this time. It's so hard when you can't even trust your own body.
I struggle with depression. Really struggle. It's part of the reason most of my blogs are so somber. I actually have a happy blog in the works, but when I'm happy enough to post it, I'm unusually manic and unable to stay in one place for too long.
I can project the most happy, optimistic attitude for the sake of others, but I can't seem to wrangle it for myself. No, I'm not trying to portray myself as a selfless martyr, giving all of my happiness to others, I'm just trying to illustrate how maladjusted I am. Oh dear God, I am so maladjusted. Behold:
My long-standing pattern of behavior is to devote myself to a friend/boyfriend/whatever in need because I care deeply for those in my life and that's just what you do, right? But then realize through all of it that I'm also one who needs help, but not be able to communicate this to anyone. Then, after suffering some sort of nasty pitfall, I crumble into a miserable, mewling mess, thus becoming obsolete to those who need me, and becoming a burden to those who love me. I lose interest in everything, and just become useless. Fortunately for me, something has always come along to save me last minute, but I can't ever seem to remain in that state of remission. It just cycles, over and over. It's not an unusual pattern for people with depression.
Depression is SUCH A BITCH. I mean, it really, really is. A nasty, conniving, cold-hearted bitch.
I would like to stay, you know, sane. For once. It's an awful lot of work to save somebody from themselves; not many people have the time or capacity to do that. Plus, as much as I would want that, I would never want that. I hate feeling pitied. I hate feeling like a burden. I know I might seem attention-seeking sometimes, but I think that's just a result of bad writing; I really hate feeling pitied.
It's terrible, because sometimes, all I think I need is a hug. Or a hug marathon. Yes, a marathon of hugging. I don't know if this is a reversion back to a state of child-like dependence, but sometimes, I think so many of my depression symptoms can be emotionally rectified by a good solid hug. My parents hugged me a lot when I was little, so maybe that has something to do with it. Or maybe I'm just weird and needy. Take your pick.
And yes, now I'm going to talk about hugging. It'll keep me from crying, and I need a break. My eyes are so puffy that I don't even recognize myself in the mirror. I look a little like Quasimodo, which, as you can imagine, is terrifying.
I'm pretty guarded about my relationships, and, generally, I'm pretty guarded about who I hug. I tend to really over-think the act of physical contact between human beings; it's a weird thing that I've always done, and feel free to diagnose me with all kinds of crazy. I won't initiate a hug with someone with whom I'm not comfortable. Conversely, if I meet a good hugger, I'm more likely to hang on to that person. I can't typically trust my body for anything, but I feel like when we embrace each other with genuine affection, I can feel it in the base of my spine (I feel strong emotions in the base of my spine---I might be an alien), and I like noticing how every different person applies pressure differently to display affection. It...kind of...helps me cope. I don't know; I'm sure most people love hugging, and all of this sounds like babbling, but I just want to talk about something that makes me happy.
Unfortunately, I think I may have married one of the worst huggers in the Midwest. Jacob is too tall, too uncoordinated, and too reserved to hug me while standing. Unless I'm standing one stair up and he's one down, but those hugs are only given upon request. Jacob is notorious for not being physically affectionate, so I'm not sure how I managed that. He does this weird thing where he tries to pop my back, but it mostly just hurts because he doesn't know what he's doing. OR, he'll hug for about 2 seconds, then give me three "buddy" pats on the back. Ineffectual, to say the least. But, he is trying. I've started communicating that more frequently, because, you know, in a marriage, communication is important. So are hugs, you know? To his credit, he's a decent cuddler (when he's not, um, gassy). At least he's funny :)
Maybe that's another reason why I like being within the theater community. Everyone is so physically affectionate, and no one attaches any unnecessary stigma to it. I don't think there's any other environment quite like it. It's just another reason I find it so therapeutic; it keeps me stable.
All this hugging talk is reminding me of how lonely I am during the day. Unemployment is so terribly lonely. I love having time to myself, but enough is enough. During the day (particularly the morning, because David is usually awake and keeping me company during the afternoon---and no, I'm not complaining about that at all; friends are awesome), I get so, so lonely. I used to have coworkers. Coworkers who talked to me and laughed with me. Even my coworkers that would hug me if I needed it. I even used to have little kids to hug...oh shit, I need to stop this train of thought...
Maybe I'll go watch more Dr. Who and secretly pretend I'm the Doctor's companion. I know this girl could use an adventure right now. I think I may have discovered the one show that might heal the scars from Lost and rekindle my desire to watch real television again; I am forever grateful. Jacob and I might finally be able to resume our favorite pastime...of watching real television. Or maybe I'll just become a massive nerd again. It wouldn't be the first time.
Maybe I should go put ice on my face. Reduce the swelling. Start looking human again.
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| Did I ever mention how much I love Linus. He's been a good buddy to me lately, and I'd feel bad if I didn't mention him. |
