I start school in a week. Five years ago I thought I was going restart my life, and here I am finally hitting the Play button again. In 16 short months I’ll be done with something I meant to finish 10 years ago, but here’s the silver lining: I have 10 years of work experience now, which means I can launch straight into an MBA program when I’m done. Better yet, I’ll qualify for an accelerated program that will only take 17 months to complete.
I’m afraid. Seeing myself react to different situations the last couple weeks, I wish I could see something other than what seems obvious. I’m explosive and numb. I’m irritable and unfocused. And all I want to do at the end of the day is tune out the world and not speak to anyone. All I can do is sit and wait to sleep, because I don’t care, and I don’t want to.
Depression isn’t a problem I once had. It isn’t something I’m only going to have to beat once. I only beat it for the first time, and now I can see it won’t be the last time. It’s part of my nature and my nurture. It’s something that will always be there, waiting for me to think it’s not still hanging over my head.
It doesn’t matter what my successes are. It doesn’t matter if I gain everything I hoped for. This cloud is going to ruin it. It will suck the joy out of everything.
I went off my supplements a couple months ago. I wanted to know if I was cured or if I was dependent. I guess now we know. I can’t be who I really am, who I was meant to be, without help. As a fiercely independent woman, I am devastated with staring that reality in the face. As the wife of the most intelligent, supportive man I’ve ever known… I am so grateful.
But grateful doesn’t quite describe it. I feel saved by the love I have, as if Someone knew I would need saving, and surrounded me with a fortress.
I’m not afraid of the future. I just wish the painful steps to get there weren’t so familiar.
I am so tired, but I’m reeling from too much caffeine. I have a meeting with the CEO and the head of my department in the morning to explain my plan to re-define an entire system; something I should probably be fresh for.
I’ll be lucky to look like something the cat dragged in.
Spike and I have had a couple “talks” in the last month to clear the air. “What’s wrong with us?” I elegantly started the first one. I’m always emotional when we have those talks. It kills me whenever he’s not absolutely blissful to see me. If he’s upset with me, I’m a wreck. Thankfully it doesn’t happen very often.
When it does, we fight fair. We do our best to talk about what’s actually going on, rather than bring up past feelings. I wonder sometimes if people get “historical” simply because they know how to talk about past feelings. Current feelings are harder to pin-down and communicate, so the conversation just fights about something it’s already figured out.
Fighting, or in our case, emotionally discussing our current frustrations is a rough undertaking. It takes patience on both sides to let the other figure out the best way to communicate what needs to be said without getting defensive and dismissive. Hearing each other is how we love each other when we’re hurt. We do our best to give each other the benefit of the doubt: “It’s not in their nature to want to hurt me, so I won’t let what they said sink in.”
Of course keeping the conversation clean is a must: No swearing, no out-of-control anger, no aggressive body language. Of course none of these rules are written, but I think we’ve done well keeping them.
Didn’t take long… My eyes are getting heavier by the miniye!!!
“Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present.” – Alice Morse Earle
One month ago I created something I may continue to thank myself for. No matter if I’m a street sweeper or a CEO, I will have just as many hours in each day as everyone else. How do I use those hours? And curiously I wonder, how do others use the same hours?