Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Hey, Jealousy...

So last month, it was the struggle with depression and my anger that really shitty things happen to not only good people, but those who should be up for sainthood! I was able to blame various environmental factors, even fancy myself a victim for a little while. What I struggle with this month,  (and continuously) is something I have invented and spent far too much time nurturing: jealousy. No, I'm not talking about the worry that my husband's attention was momentarily diverted by the Victoria's Secret commercial, or the "sour grapes" verbal attack on the people with the lakefront house, the boat, and perfect hair. It pains me to say this, but I'm talking about my friends.

 I have had the great misfortune of making some of the most talented, beautiful, thin, educated, insightful, stylish, selfless, enlightened friends. Most days, I am honored to be in their presence, but for a tiny (still too large for me) portion of the time I am with them, I feel like I am just tolerated to come along for the ride with people in whose league I could never really find myself. I want so desperately to move through the world the way they do. There are moments when I am consumed by these thoughts.

My friend writes (beautifully and eloquently) in her blog about Pinterest and HGTV making her feel inadequate. Oh, gorgeous, funny, amazing, stylish friend...HOW?!  Another dear friend of mine who blogs and causes me to ponder things that had never before crossed my mind is like a Mother Theresa in a statuesque supermodel package (except with massive "street cred" and intellect). She has also shares feelings of inadequacy from time to time. It's shocking to hear this from her.

I am no slouch, I know. This isn't a "down on myself" pity party. It's more a prayer that I will decide that I am enough. If I never loose the thirty pounds, I am enough. If I am never published, I am enough. If I never run the marathon, I am enough. If I never sing another aria in public. I am enough.  Most importantly, if the people around me do accomplish these things, I can celebrate with them, be genuinely happy for them,  and still decide I am enough.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

It's back again

I thought I had shored things up, armored myself. I didn't think it would happen this year. I mean, we had a great Christmas. We're finally buying a house. My nephew will be born any minute. I should be over the moon! But depression didn't get the memo, and has chosen to winter at my home for the time being.  I mean, it wasn't completely without warning. He sent his friends anxiety and insomnia weeks in advance. I tried to ignore them, wanting so much more to see heavenly harbingers announcing Christmas, not those which would announce a dark odyssey into my own head.

I was coming back from taking a friend to the airport the week before Christmas. As I got on the ramp from 85 to 77, I felt the all-too-familiar wash of vertigo. "Oh, God not now, here we go." My heart began to pound in my ears, heat rushed to my scalp where prickles became sweat. I cranked the AC to full blast, moved into the slow lane, and began the mantra: "You are not dying, you are not going to faint, you will not crash this car. Try to breathe. A familiar exit is coming, soon. You can't stop this. Lean in to it. You have to let the whole thing wash over."

I had another panic attack a week later as I went back to get said friend from the airport. (Yes, I know, locations are triggers). I had even had a .5 of Ativan this time. Right about this time the insomnia started to kick in, as well. No doubt the darkness was just around the corner.

That hit on New Year's Day. I know, how cliche to be depressed after the holidays, right? Hey, I may be rather original, but my mental illness just has no imagination.

I sit home today after a night of insomnia and upset stomach, and a morning I just could not face. My meds have been adjusted, which should help. I am about to take a short walk. I also need to go on a "news diet" for a while. Too many unspeakable things happening to children. I can't handle it. I will fight this, like I do almost every January (although who knows why I was off the hook last year). Meds, fresh air, exercise, paint samples and seed catalogues. They are my arsenal. Those,  and knowing we are gaining about one minute of sunlight each day!