So. Hi there. How are you? I'm ok, thanks, and feeling a lot less wrist-slitty than I was after my last post (metaphorically speaking, of course). I actually had a pretty good weekend. It's amazing how a couple of days of staying out until four a.m. can change your perspective on things, or at least distract you sufficiently from the issues at hand. (Otherwise known as alcohol! The poor man's anti-depressant! Or... something.) Anyway, your comments really meant a lot to me, and I wanted to respond to each of them individually, but then it sort of got overwhelming, and, well... just, thanks. Thank you. You all had some lovely thoughts slash advice slash encouragement, and I am taking all the things you said to heart, even the ones that suggested that I move to a different part of the country (or a different country)/see a therapist/go on anti-depressants/just lighten the hell up already, god, all of which, although perfectly reasonable suggestions, are impossible right now, for various reasons.
Although there's a part of me that will probably always wonder if I wouldn't be happier somewhere else, I've spent years of my life trying to find that place only to discover that it's just like they say: Wherever you go, there you are. After years of moving from place to place I think I've finally realized that it's not my location that's making me unhappy, it's me. I've been doing so much moving around and starting over the last couple of years that I'd like to try to settle down and focus on where I am, for the moment, and who I am, rather than keep searching for that elusive perfect place that may not even exist.
Secondly, as far as I can tell, depression is for people who can afford shrinks and meds and co-pays and self-help books. People like me prefer to call it "the blues," or PMS, or the winter blahs, or congenital grumpiness, or anything else that doesn't require me to pay $150 an hour for someone to listen to me talk about my problems. I mean, that's what you guys are for, right?
And third, lighten up and be a little easier on myself? Do you even know me at all? Seriously though, you may be onto something there, and you're right, I probably should be a little more forgiving of myself. But then, what would I write about? "So I went to a tango class and it was a little hard, but it's ok because I'm just a beginner. I'm sure it will go better next time!" Or, "I keep sending out cover letters and resumes, and no one wants to give me a job, but I'm sure it's all due to the economy and not to any personal defect on my part. I guess I'll just keep plugging away!" I suppose there's always been a part of me that thinks that angsty, self-deprecating writing is just, well, more interesting. I guess the problem comes when it's not just writing, and you start to internalize all that self-deprecation until it consumes you. Though, really, it's not writing that's the problem. I was self-deprecating long before blogs came along. If anything, blogging about it helps dispel the poison by getting it all out there so I can try to move on. And that's what this is. Me getting it all out there so I can think about it, get some feedback, and try to move on.
Anyway, thanks. Thanks for reading. Thanks for responding. Thanks for the love and even the tough love. Life isn't so bad right now. Thanks for reminding me of that.