(Most people would probably write some sort of explanation for why they haven’t posted in two months, but I think we both know it wouldn’t make a difference. Let’s say I’m lazy and move on.)
So I went to see my therapist today because I’ve been fighting off a terrible wave of depression that’s pretty much kept me laying in bed, and crying, and not eating, because — well — sad. Between my best friends, and my online compadres, I had quite a support system, or otherwise, I’d probably have been a complete mass of barely human by Monday. (I just have to say I have no idea how people do this without a support system. They make all the difference in the world.) Unless they say things like, “Did you eat today?” Like I’m depressed because I forgot to eat? Let me just grab some more tissues and a cup of yogurt then. But, mostly no one made ridiculous suggestions.
Then, yesterday, I reached a mild turning point when I got incredibly pissed off at someone and the combination of anger and adrenaline actually got me up and moving around. It didn’t last long, and I was completely spent after I stopped being mad, but I won’t lie to y’all, it totally brought my awesome back.
Which is really how you know your friends are real friends. They just jump right in to help you cover up a murder. For fun. Without even asking who or why. And I couldn’t be more grateful for them if I tried.
(Side note: Trying twitter’s “embed” feature. Not sure I’m a fan. But, I already closed those windows, so let’s just all be flexible about it this time, okay?)
Anyway, I guess getting mad was enough of a jolt to my system that I finally was able to enjoy myself last night with a friend, to sleep soundly, and to get up this morning, shower and get dressed and go to see my therapist. Because, I’m not at all fooled into thinking a good dose of anger cured my depression.
And while I won’t bore you with all the details from my session, I do have to share this, because my therapist is awesome, hilarious, and I am always a little paranoid that she’s going to write a book and include my stuff and then make money off of it and while I have no idea how it actually works, I don’t think I’d get any money from books she sells. I have talked to her about this particular bit of paranoia, but she told me she has no plans to write a book, but I think that if she was actually writing a book she would say that because she wouldn’t want me to get the jump on her. So, impasse.
Anyhow, I’m in therapy telling my therapist all of the things from my week and then I get to the part about where I got pissed off last night and I was all, “Which makes NO SENSE. Because I totally told you all about the stuff with him, and you know as well as I do, that there isn’t enough there for me to GET pissed off about anyway. But then I went from “meh, jerk” to “FUCKING JERK!!” in like, three seconds. So, EXPLAIN THAT.”
So she tells me a whole lot of stuff that made a lot of sense. That I wasn’t really pissed off at the guy, that I was redirecting anger that I’ve had from my Dad, and that I don’t like things unresolved, and that while I wasn’t wrong about any of the stuff I said to that guy or about him, the actual mad wasn’t about him at all, and some other stuff I can’t remember because after a bit it all starts to meld together and my brain starts to hurt and I’m tired, but then she says, “And — he’s kind of a jerk.”
And that is why I continue to go see her, whether I feel like I need it or not, because that made me laugh, really laugh, for the first time in days. It was awesome enough that I almost feel bad for all of the magazines I stole from the waiting area after finding out that my therapist doesn’t have Black Friday specials. Because, I’m getting compensated one way or another.
I’m not back to what passes for my normal, but I’m better, and I finally feel like the heavy that’s been weighing me down is starting to lift.
Moral: I learned to be thankful for getting pissed off. And for friends that help me plan a crime. Let’s be honest, you should have known the moral was going to be messed up by the time you first read the word therapy. I don’t go because I’m healthy, y’all.
P.S. I want to thank @jillsmo, who totally understood my depression, and who I think would have left her family and flown to Texas to stay with me if she thought I’d be alone yesterday. Which would have been awful for her, because I have no wine in my house. And I also want to say that @ksluiter and @csluiter were amazing to me. They actually helped me feel more normal while I couldn’t get out of bed and stop crying. These guys made a huge difference, and I really am grateful for them.
P.P.S. Oh, and Shannon and Mireya too. Obviously.