Depression is hard to describe. Especially to those who’ve never had it. They think you’re just sad and why can’t you just be happy? I read this post by the bloggess today. And felt a little better.
My mom is coming to Las Vegas today for a nice visit. Just us girls. Well, my husband is here too, but he will have to work tomorrow and Friday, so it’ll just be us, chatting, catching up, complaining about things – the usual. I’m very excited. Being closer to my family (distance wise) was 90% of the reason for the move to Vegas. It cheers me up to see my family. So, for the moment, the depression I’ve been chasing into corners for the past few months has moved off into the background. I’ve no doubt that it will come sneaking back in when she leaves on Monday, but I don’t think about that now. I’ll think about it later. When I’m at Tara. Fiddle dee dee.
Would someone mind explaining to me why you can’t watch the Oscars live on the internet? I mean, c’mon. The official Oscars website streamed hours of red carpet coverage and backstage crap and after party footage – why not just stream the damn show? I could understand if it was on a cable channel that you were supposed to pay for, but it’s on ABC for crying out loud. Phooey! Anyway – we don’t have any television at all. We have A television, but it’s only useful for hooking up to DVD players or video game consoles. When the world went HD a few years ago we got an antenna thingie to make the tv work, but for some reason when we got here to Vegas it didn’t work anymore. I’m sure it was something about us not trying hard enough, but there you have it. No tv. Which is normally not a big deal, because I don’t watch television but hardly ever, but I’m one of those people who likes to watch the Oscars. I do, I admit it. I love celebrities and watching what crazy outfits they’re going to wear or what stupid things they’re going to say when they win. Oh well. Maybe next year.
Have you ever found yourself wondering, as you burst into tears for the 2nd time in one day, exactly how it is that you got to This Place? And whether This Place is where you should be, or if, indeed, it is The Wrong Place? And whether there was a seemingly insignificant decision that you once made that led you to This Place, and had you decided oppositely you’d be in The Right Place? I sometimes do that.
You know how people are always saying “everything happens for a reason”? I disagree. And I sort of hate it when people say that. Like “oh, I’m sorry things are kind of crap for you right now, but everything happens for a reason”. As if that will solve the problem. Doesn’t that just make you feel worse, like you somehow brought this on yourself? I know, I know, I’m supposed to be being more positive, and I suppose that what those people mean is that The Horrible Thing that you’re experiencing right now will turn out to have some sort of deep, spiritual meaning, NOT that you somehow deserve it as punishment for being a jerkface for most of your life. But still.
Having the internet at home after having gone without it for years is like Christmas (when you’re young enough to have anticipated Christmas for months and months and can’t sleep the night before in anticipation) every day. I don’t care if we end up selling all of our possessions because we can’t afford it, I am in crazy love with the internet right now. See how I ended on a happy note? It’s the new, improved me, with less complaining and more gratefulness.
I was reading someone’s blog (or facebook… or twitter… stupid social networking) the other day and she was annoyed with the Grammys because she hates The Beach Boys. I didn’t watch the Grammys, but I’m assuming The Beach Boys performed. Which begs the question, was it the real Beach Boys? Or the post-Wilson atrocity that Mike Love still calls the Beach Boys? Anyway, that’s beside the point. I was just astonished that someone would hate The Beach boys. Sure, everyone is entitled to their opinion (even if it’s wrong), but man. Brian Wilson. What a genius. She needs to go buy and listen to Pet Sounds immediately. Or the Brian Wilson release of Smile, the way he had originally wanted it to be before his band mates crapped all over it. She probably only knows Barbara Ann and Little Deuce Coupe. Right? I mean, listen to this and try to hate:
I’m just sayin’
2/22/12 update: I finally got around to finding and watching the footage from the grammys and apparently it was the real Beach Boys. well, as close as you can get what with half of them being dead and all. Man I love Brian Wilson.
I’m pretty certain I broke my toe last night. This toe. The toe that was mangled beyond recognition by a wrestling mat. Poor lil toe. How, you might ask, did I break it again? There is some sort of baby contraption in our bedroom (Jason’s boss has been bringing him a bunch of baby stuff because his babies aren’t babies anymore, very kind, but we still haven’t figured out where to put everything in this tiny little apartment – [good lord, where are we going to put a BABY?] so some of it is haphazardly placed in odd corners), that apparently migrated right into my coming-back-from-the-bathroom path so at really late o’clock when I was stumbling back from my second, pregnancy-induced bathroom visit my little toe hooked on it. And then it throbbed for 45 minutes. I wonder if that toe pokes out more than normal or something. Really. This is like, the 3rd time, I think, that it has been busted. Poor lil toe.
Oh you guys. All that stuff I said yesterday. I’m having a hard time. I worry a lot. About money. It’s a rough gig. Money makes the world go ’round. And I, unfortunately, ain’t got none.
I am an inherently unhappy person. And I hate it. And somehow,
soon NOW, something has to change. I need to either learn to love the life I’m leading or change mine so that I do. Because I am pregnant I will not take anti-depressant medication (the arguments for and against are both valid and if the depression gets to an unmanageable point then there are options, but I figure this baby deserves a drug free life until (s)he is a grown-up and discovers his/her own mental disorder) so instead I will have to make things better by natural means. The first step, I’ve decided (I’m no expert, but this is my life and my blog so I’m making up the rules) is a major attitude adjustment. Major. I’ve been reading the blogs of two of my cousins that I’ve been out of contact with since they were a whole lot younger (I moved to Portland when they were still in high school) and upon rediscovering them I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the beautiful, adventurous, high-spirited, life-loving, amazing people they have become. And I’ve decided that I need to be more like that, more like them. I need to find the joy in things rather than the bitter sorrow. There is beauty all around, even in Las Vegas.
So: this blog is about to become a whole different place. I am about to become a whole new me. No more complaining. No more swearing. No more wishing I were somebody else, living a different life. This is the one I was given, the one I’ve been livin’, and the one I need to learn to feel comfortable in.
To start I would like to list some of the things that are good and great, and that I should really get to appreciatin’ already.
1 – My husband. He really is great. He loves me – sometimes I wonder why, but he does. He has been patient through the puking and the weight gain and the lack of motivation that has been the first 14 weeks of my pregnancy. And he’s so excited about the baby. It’s very cute.
2 – My pregnancy. I’m going to have a baby! A little being to love, cherish and take care of. I’ll admit here, to my blog and nobody else, that after the first couple of exhilarating I’M PREGNANT!!!!! weeks, I started to have misgivings, doubts (okay, terrified HOLY CRAP days where I wondered what the hell I was thinking and how the hell I thought I was qualified to raise a child) and was seriously terrified of this whole baby thing. I still have occasional twinges. It’s scary. It is. But then I look at my mother, and her sister, and the great kids they’ve raised and I realize that I will probably be a natural, and that I’d rather be doing this than to get to a ripe old age and regret that I never did this.
3. My cats. They’re crazy, they make me crazy, their poo stinks, they eat stupid things and get ill (requiring insanely expensive visits to the vet), they shred my furniture, but geez are they cute and cuddly. One of them is currently trying to crowd the computer off of my lap because rightfully, he belongs there. They sleep on my feet and my head. I love them.
4. My apartment (despite the ridiculously loud neighbors above). It is small and sort of in a trashy neighborhood, but for a first place after a transstate (that’s like transcontinental only between states, not continents) move it ain’t bad. And hey, I’m not homeless, which would really suck.
5. My family (including my husband’s relatives) who have been wonderful with the whole “we just moved to a new state, I started school and got pregnant, hey our savings account is gone” thing. Money problems are my least favorite problems. Really. They torture me, they terrorize me, they keep me up at night. Luckily, we are not alone in this world (which I need to realize and stop being terrorized). Jason’s parents gave us money and a new couch, my dad & stepmom took me shopping for tons of helpful items at costco and bought me some much needed maternity clothes (not to mention allowed me to stay at their place for a week to use their internet), my mom gave me food, more maternity clothes and things for the baby (and is coming out here to visit me because I’ve been so lonesome and blue), my grandma wrote out a check to pay for 6 months of internet so that I don’t have to go to the stinkin’ public library and/or continue to stay at my dad’s – wow these people are fantastic and we are lucky as punch (no, that’s not actually a saying) to have them.
In closing, here are some… mini-goals, I guess, to help me on my way to the ultimate goal of being a happy person.
1. Stop dwelling on the past and regretting every decision I’ve ever made. I can’t go back and change them so what’s the point of dwelling?
2. Stop swearing so much, especially in my writing. Reading through old posts yesterday made me realize how assaulting the swears can be (especially the eff word – eek).
3. Start noticing and appreciating things around me (like the fact that the sun is shining and it’s warm in February, the birds are chirping, etc. etc.)
4. Start keeping up with my blogging again. It’s therapeutic. It will help. (right??)
This is just the beginning. I do not want to be this version of me anymore.
I’m so tired of being depressed, of not loving my life. So many people I know love their lives – my husband included. It doesn’t bother him that we’re so broke that we’re counting on our tax refund to keep us from homelessness, that I’m pregnant with no health insurance, that his car is broken, he’s still optimistic and happy. He still loves me, loves his life, is excited about the future and the baby. Where can I get me some of that? Why am I, instead of happy and optimistic, a crazed, anxiety-ridden, killjoy who barely sleeps at night and has a constant refrain of “oh shit” singing in my head? All I can do is worry and wish things were different or that I was somebody else. Is it because of my childhood? Because my poverty stricken, formative years were spent wondering if my mom and I would eat that week? Or can the blame, once again, be placed on my brain’s fundamentally unbalanced chemistry? Either way I gotta snap out of it before this kid is born.