And I have come to a grinding halt. I have not done a thing these past two weeks but sit here, depressed. I’ve slept a lot, watched TV a lot; have only done what’s been absolutely required like getting Dalton to and from school, fixing meals and such. I’ve done my client’s weekly payroll and filed the quarterly returns; but beyond that, I have barely left the sofa.
I hate this. I can’t seem to crawl out of it; it is ugly. I don’t blame poor Dalton for not wanting to spend much time here; I am glad he has so many friends. Yesterday he told me that he is tired of hearing me complain all the time about everything. That hurt; I did not realize and I am so sorry. God, what is wrong with me?
I cannot pay the rent. Again. And this time I do know why; I simply am not making it. And I just do not know what to do about it. Even when I work as much as I can I have been feeling totally crushed trying to do this; I do not make enough money to stay in this house. The scary part is that I don’t know if I can find anything suitable that is enough less to make enough of a difference. I do not know what to do. I feel like a huge failure and I am terrified. Again. It always happens eventually; it always has. Only this time I have a child I’m responsible for; I cannot run away. I feel sick.
I have not even been able to read, and that is bizarre. Yesterday I didn’t even bother to check my email. Usually I always log in online, primarily because if my sister does not see me online, she worries. Seeing each other on AIM makes us feel close, like we are not so alone, and I am aware that it often helps me by making me feel accountable. At times I fear that it is only feeling my responsibility to others that keeps me hanging in there. And my sister sometimes will call me if she does not see me online for a long period of time. I don’t like to think how it would be if she weren’t there. But this week she has been on vacation in South Carolina and I am happy for her, she deserves this and I hope she is having a wonderful time. I miss her.
But my sister does not deserve to have me dump my problems on her, and there is nothing she can do to solve my problems, though I know she would if she could. I am feeling like the “messed up little sister” again – failing again. Failing at LIFE 101.
And part of the problem is that when I am depressed like this it clouds everything in my head so that I am unable to see what choices or opportunities or possible solutions there might even be. I am stuck in a hole, a mire, out of which I simply cannot see or move. If I try to think about the problem or try to figure out solutions, it makes me feel like screaming and I feel like I might die.
I know my antidepressants do not work any more. I suspected this for a long time and then recently read this article, which convinced me. My doctor doesn’t want me to stop taking it, but I feel it is worthless to continue. I do not remember the last time I felt this bad; it’s been years I think. But I certainly recognize where I am.
There are pros and cons to having a child at such a time. The bad thing is that I hate having him see me this way, I feel guilty and sad on his behalf and so very, very sorry. I want things to be better for him and I worry about how my being like this might be affecting him. The good thing is that because of him, I know that somehow I ultimately will be ok. I cannot allow any alternative, for his sake. I cannot let myself crash and burn. But it scares me – much more than if it were only myself involved. I want my son to have a good life. Things are not real good right now and I hate that for him.
But short of MAGIC, I do not see how things might get any better.
MAGIC has saved me before, I know it has. And I have always believed that it is DOUBT which makes MAGIC not work; you have to believe. But it is hard to believe especially given the fact that most people would decide you’re certifiably crazy to believe that MAGIC can solve your problems.
But I honestly do believe that MAGIC can happen when you BELIEVE. Call it what you will – the Power of the Universe, the Power of Intent; GOD – it is all the same to me. Whatever you call it, if you BELIEVE, MAGIC HAPPENS. Unless I am crazy…
And all I really know right now is that I need to crawl out of this hole. I somehow need to find a solution to my rent problem and I need to find my LIFE again. But I can’t seem to do it. Nothing seems to help; I just end up STUCK – every way I look at it.
I am worried about Christmas. If I have no money now, how am I going to give my child and my family a decent Christmas? I cannot accept this. And this line of thinking makes me crazy! It makes me want to crawl out of my own skin!
I do not even know why I am writing this. Maybe it’s a step forward. If I can do this, perhaps I can do something else – to prove I am still alive? I want things to be OK, to be Right, to be Beautiful, Peaceful and Plentiful. Why has it always been so hard for me? I do not blame anyone but myself, but I do not understand; I never have.
I thought for a while that the answer was learning I have ADHD. But that doesn’t really answer it for me any more. This seems different. But, I don’t really know, I could be wrong. Maybe cutting way back on my ADHD meds was not the right thing to do. I don’t like taking meds. I should be able to take care of myself adequately without it, shouldn’t I? And this was my argument years ago when I was told I should take antidepressants. I did not want to. I did not want to believe that I cannot deal with things without it. Except that I was not successful at doing so until I gave up and took the meds. My life did get better. For a while, anyway.
I do not like hating myself. I know I am the only one who can change that. I know I am the only one who can fix this, or anything. I just wish I felt stronger. I wish Money was not such a big deal; I hate Money. I hate that I cannot live without it. I hate what not having enough does to me. It incapacitates me, apparently. And how can I let Money have such power over me? Is it because I do hate it? I think I hate it because of its power over me; its power over my quality of life. And for me it seems to be a matter, not of quantity, but of the black and white issue of simply ENOUGH or NOT ENOUGH. Either I have enough to be comfortable and content (not freaking out), or I do not have enough to manage and I am living in fear and agony. It’s one or the other. It’s true, I am either ok or not ok and it has a lot to do with whether I am making it financially or not. I do not want or need a lot. I just want to have ENOUGH. It doesn’t seem like it should be this hard, it really doesn’t.
And it appears that I’ve begun writing this “Money Autobiography” that I assigned myself to do a couple of weeks ago, and which I have not yet been able to do. I have been stuck in more than one way. This past week I did finally hear from one of the people to whom I sent my “Little Pig” manuscript. She indicated that she thought my story was “cute” but that she was not ”the right person” to represent me. I am trying to digest that and decide what it really means. I still have not heard from the other person who is a children’s book author (with an agent), but it occurs to me that I probably will need to research publishing houses and start submitting blindly to editors. It feels rather daunting. But it’s just another thing I need to attend to, really.
I still have no excuse for not continuing to draw and write. It’s not like I’ve been doing anything else. I have not, I have just been frozen. STUCK. Am I punishing myself for some reason? Is it that I think I do not deserve any joy, any pleasure? When I’m depressed like this I have often had to force myself even to eat – like I do not deserve to eat. And if I can begin to understand some of these behaviors these days, why can I not stop them; get unstuck?
Maybe I am punishing myself. Maybe I even can understand it. Because I have no sympathy or respect for people who cannot even manage to take care of themselves. Someone who is intelligent and capable – and has a child to care for – how dare I fail so miserably? How can anyone love or have respect for a person so screwed up! That is how I feel.
But perhaps this is being abusive. I should not abuse myself. But I do not know how to stop; I do not know how to fix this.
I did nothing for Halloween. I stayed home all weekend, by myself, and did not a thing other than to make sure Dalton had a decent time and I bought (too much) candy. I just did not have it in me this year and was just glad when it was over. But I felt guilty. I do hope to do better next year.
I didn’t go on the Wednesday walk this past week either. I was feeling too miserable to move. But on Thursday when Dalton was invited to go with friends to his school’s SKATE NIGHT activity, I decided to pull myself together and go up to Aqus to listen to music and try to crawl out of my hole. It was OK, but I ended up feeling kind of stupid and pathetic. In fact, very soon after I got there, as I sat sipping a beer, I kept finding myself near tears. I did not want to cry! So I tried to drink faster, drown those tears. And by the time the music started and I was on my second beer, a woman came in who I knew from the Wednesday night walks so she joined me and I was glad to have somebody to talk to. Unfortunately, I fear I annoyed her by my chatter when she only wanted to hear the music. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. I apologized for talking so much, but she left sooner than I would’ve expected. I felt rather stupid and embarrassed.
And then I found myself blabbing to a guy sitting at the table next to me who I’d noticed looking at me. He was obviously younger than me, but he thought I was about 10 years younger than I am (which my ego likes to hear) and I guess I just needed to let off steam. I ended up talking about my son’s worthless father and he admitted to having children that he rarely bothered to contact or see. He seemed to feel guilty about that. I left feeling a bit annoyed with myself but who knows: maybe my being there and reminding him of his duty was a good thing. Perhaps it caused him to call his kids. Maybe it made some kids somewhere happy. I do not know. It makes me think though – maybe this is one way to look at things: Whether or not we do ourselves any favors, perhaps we can still have a positive impact on others, just by going out our door. One cannot make any kind of impact if we sit at home and feel sorry for ourselves.
I know I am alone too much. But that is not always easy to fix either.
Maybe I just need to focus on that MAGIC. See if I can bury the Doubts and Self-loathing and simply BELIEVE. I do have a life, of sorts, sitting around me. There are things I could – and should – do. I could clean up my house, or at least work at it a little bit. I could work on WORK so I can bill more money next month. It would help even if it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. I could go back to work on my drawings, etc. – it would likely make me feel better. I could get myself off the couch and go outside, move my body, breathe the air.
Will I do it? I don’t know. These worries assault me from the moment I open my eyes in the morning and continue relentlessly unless I distract myself fully or shut my eyes and go to sleep. I don’t even want to THINK. Because I end up just going in circles until I am frantic and want to scream, wound as tight as a bowstring.
I didn’t know if I could write this morning; I have not been able to this last couple of weeks at all. But once I started writing, out it floods. I suppose that is a good sign.
So in keeping with my assigning themes to my weeks, what would I call this? My first thought was to say this has been about being on the Edge of Despair. Then I decided it more rightfully should be said to be about Money. But the truth is I got depressed BEFORE I ran out of money. Depression is both a symptom and a CAUSE of money problems. It can be hard to see which it is at times, but that is sort of irrelevant in the end. I think perhaps this is more a matter of being STUCK.
So, I will focus on the idea that anything STUCK can become UNSTUCK given time and attention. And also, there is always the matter of MAGIC.