This isn’t really a post, it’s a confession, one I hope helps someone else. At least then the struggle won’t be all for nothing. This is about something I’ve dealt with for a long time, over thirty years. It’s something I very rarely talk about because I feel it makes me somehow less acceptable as a person, broken, not good enough.
(No, this is not about Speck. The one bright spot this week is Speck has left the RV park and is no longer a constant reminder. I wish him well.)
I started writing this over a year ago, but didn’t have the courage to finish it until today. I started writing it after Tim Ferriss wrote about his struggle and how he’s hidden it for a long time. I get it. I totally, completely get it.
Jennifer Aniston just spoke about her insecurities, the same ones we all deal with. Again, I get it, on a level I wish I didn’t, I get it. And I have a whole new respect and deep appreciation for Jennifer Aniston as a human being.
The Bloggess often writes about her battles. By her admission and openness, she comforts me and the entire interwebs. We know we aren’t really, even though we feel utterly, completely alone. I hope to be like her someday: brave, vulnerable, and to let someone else know they aren’t alone.
I identified with all of what they said, and applaud their bravery and honesty, their vulnerability. They have inspired me to admit my own struggles. I am not brave in my admission; it took me over a year to finish this post. Many famous, and far better writers have divulged their own personal struggles. I am not jumping on the bandwagon, not trying to be one of the crowd. It is their own bravery that has given me the strength to admit this, to tell you out there in internet land how I feel, and share some of the struggles I’ve been too ashamed to write about. If it offers comfort to someone else to know they are not alone, that’s all the better. Then this will have been for something useful.
Depression is a Bitch
I suffer from depression and anxiety and I have for almost my entire life. For those of you who know me, some of you are probably thinking, “What?! You seem so happy!” I hide it well, but some days better than others. Yup, like I hid my drinking and using many years ago.
The anxiety I’ve somewhat learned to take for granted. For most of my life I thought that’s how most people walked around, how they went through life. I thought that was normal. The anxiety has increased over time. Yes, I still meditate once or twice a day. That helps a little, but not always.
But the depression is the worst. It makes me feel like giving up. It makes me feel broken, alone, unlovable. Sometimes it’s incredibly hard going through life while feeling utterly alone. To do everything by oneself. No hug to make it all better from that one someone special, that cheerleader who is always in your corner.
Many things happened in my childhood, the worst of which I do not yet have the courage to tell you all. They left a mark emotionally. Sometimes i think the mark is too deep to ever heal. Subsequent events over the years have reinforced those feelings making me feel utterly alone. Alone. Broken. Never good enough. Unlovable.
Adding to my current depression is a massive, legitimate fear of financial insecurity. I feel like a failure at life.
The emotional roller coaster is too much some days. I keep trying to be happy, to put on a brave face, but I can’t keep it up any more.
Sometimes I don’t want to get up in the morning. But I do.
Some days I want to end all the pain. But I won’t.
Sometimes I want to start smoking again. But I haven’t yet.
No, I won’t start drinking again. I quit many years ago and that’s one thing I still have going for me. It’s also proof there is usually a bright, shiny silver lining to even the darkest of clouds.
I wanted to publish this last week, but only now is the roller coaster coming back up a little, just enough so I can write this without crying. I never know how long it will be up or how long it will be down. I’m not going to keep it from you anymore. I’m sure some of you will leave, will stop reading this blog, and I will miss you. But mostly I hope this helps someone else who also struggles.
Someday I will muster the courage to tell you the deep dark trials and tribulations of my childhood, most of which only one or two people know. Some of those events will explain why I struggle with relationships, but they will also show why I have a great capacity to love those who appear broken. Maybe that will helps someone, too. I am starting to write a book about my life; the good, the bad, the ugly, and how I’ve overcome it (or plan to). Maybe someday I will publish it. Maybe somebody will read it.
Just knowing you are out there, that you care is enough. Please don’t offer advice, especially if we’re related. I know you mean well, but there is nothing that you can conceive of that I have not tried, short of hiring Tony Robbins as my personal coach (yes, that IS on The Bucket List).
If you have similar struggles, I’d like to read them in the comments. Be anonymous if it helps you to be vulnerable. When the roller coaster ride gets to the low points again, it will help me to read your comments. And it may help someone else, too.
(Fuck. It’s hard to push the “Publish” button on this post.)