Writing’s action. Isn’t it?
I’m depressed. I don’t remember how or when it started this time. If I could just find that moment, the reasons, I’d have an action plan. I must do something. Except I can’t. Like a child, I want to run away as the answer but feel trapped. Just saying. Though to say it sounds like complaining and blaming.
Depression is selfish, focusing on self too much. Right? Negativity embraced. Tell me the stories of people who are suffering great pain and losses to give me perspective. I tried that. Doesn’t work.
My son called me on negativity. He had his car stuck sideways in the driveway the other day, stuck so much worse than mine ever was. I wanted to answer in a capital letter text, “Call your father!” But I didn’t. I couldn’t see how it would become unstuck and said so. Jacob said, “Thanks Mom (drawing that name out like he does). You’re so negative.” Was I?
The kid in the tow truck already had it chained up when we went out in the dark cold. He jacked it up a little and pulled. His girlfriend watched from the cab window. They were cute. I could sense their enjoyment of each other riding on calls. He jerked the car free. An expert of the tow. The type of man, person, who could always see a way out.
Take a pill! I do. It doesn’t seem to help. Feeling good once, I wanted to stop. Go drug-free. My doctor, the 6-month confidante, told me to keep taking it until it’s all over. Not life. The divorce I thought would be over by now. I trusted in an even division of our 35 years of coupling. I can’t think of the right word to describe us anymore. I think that’s part of it. Not having words to describe the sudden clarity of my life. And still believing in attributes I shouldn’t.
My doctor knows my stories. I broke down in the office that first time though I didn’t want to. I’m known for stoicism. I’m sure he’s used to people like me, but how uncomfortable to watch patients cry! Sure, it’s all part of the profession; but it must still be unsettling to be or pretend understanding. Even a downer to deal with it regularly. I don’t think his was pretense. He knows divorce won’t be the end for me anyway. He’s met the addict in my life. He’s listened to the story of my son. He offered his own appreciated thoughts on that. I keep going to him though it’s not convenient anymore. Keep the people in your life who get you. Who even try to get you. You’re lucky to have them. Unless you really don’t want someone to get you.
I’m thinking of Gina, the therapist, again. I was done with her. Maybe a booster is needed.
Or just snap out of it.