So, a really smart person asked me another really smart question. And for a second I wished she’d knock that shit off. But it was asked with just the right amount of “tell me if I am stepping on your toes and I’ll shut up” to know she really meant that. And given that she knows whereof she speaks, I paused. And really thought about the answer.
And the more I thought about it the quieter I felt like being… and now that I think I have an answer for her, I figured it was as good an excuse as any to choke back out some words right here so I can get past the pre-christmas pity party I threw for myself. Barfing up some whiny mess here is like barfing up tequila at a party. You’re not really even sorry you did it, because you really do feel better, you’re just sorry you have to see any of those people again, the people that saw you leaving the bathroom, sweating, dazed and stinking of a Cancun party bus.
So, what she asked me is if I was “depressed.” Or suffering from “minor depression” with an apology for the use of the word minor, which was fair, as all who have suffered from it know that it feels like being told you were in a “minor car accident,” only your car is totaled and uninsured. Short answer. No. I’m not. I have been, in my life, and so I took some time and stepped back and thought about it. But nope. But I am suffering daily. On two fronts. That I am hard pressed to believe are not related.
Several months ago when I had my IUD removed I started paying really careful attention to my body. Oddly, at the same time I stopped taking particularly good care of it. Thank you very much, holiday food and drink. But in an effort to keep my psychosis and paranoia from consuming me I started charting my temps and watching my ovulation signs so I would know when to expect my period, consequently limiting the amount of time I spend convinced I am pregnant mere months before the Biggest and Most Fun Party Ever, I mean our wedding. At about this same time I started experiencing terrific back pain. Being a nerd, I logged all these symptoms in to my phone. Since the holidays were a bigger priority to me than running or the gym has been the last couple months, I couldn’t blame it on the gym.
Stepping back now I can see I am in pain more often than not.
In the morning I struggle to get out of bed. Mornings are the toughest, as I wince through making coffee, struggle to get back up from a crouched position to get something from the fridge. I am short with Em and MQD. I am angry. A hot shower and a heaping handful of Advil go a long way. But it’s not my favorite way to wake up. Angry. Hurting.
The pain in my back lends itself nicely to feeling sorry for myself. Not only does it contribute to my lack of exercise, but it causes me to dwell unnecessarily on the process of aging. I think, and think about how lucky I was that I was so healthy for so many years, and really have experienced very little physical pain.
And as soon as I make that distinction….. no physical pain, the pain I did feel all comes back, because I am already crying, might as well make use of it. And before I know it, I am crouched on the floor in the kitchen in front of the fridge, or bent over the trying to pick up my shoes, crying… because my back hurts, and because I am sad I went so long without doing the hard work to get happy. Now that I have it, this capital letter h Happy… I can’t believe I went so long without finding it. The easier my relationship becomes with Jer the more I wonder why I didn’t just let him go sooner. We have our family back. Em’s got her dad, I have my friend. And we have MQD. Who daily is more than I ever could have imagined a man to be.
So… the short answer to am I depressed is no. But I am in pain. My back hurts. And my heart hurts. And hurting makes me angry. And being angry makes me unreasonably frustrated with everything.
I am having a hard time reconciling the fact that I am really fucking sad. Right smack dab in the middle of the happiest time of my life. And I am confused by it.
Marriage is a leap of faith. One I am prepared to make. I feel confident and secure. As secure as someone like me gets anyway…. but all of it, all of this capital letter “H” Happiness is stirring up Sadness and Anger and Failure and all kinds of bullshit that has no repository. So, how do just I barf it up like that cheap tequila so I can make it all over with quicker? The same way I used to try to then… drink more of it. I wallowed in it, hoping that one good splash of feelings would come up from deep inside me and the sweating would stop and I’d feel better. But it’s just not coming. So… where do I go from here?
To have someone help me pull it all out. Let me look at it and then step over it.
My back hurts. My heart hurts. And it’s getting in the way of me sucking up all the Good that is surrounding me. So in the last couple of weeks I did a couple of things that were hard, but not as hard as carrying this weight. I asked MQD to help me with Em so I can take care of me. I made an appointment with someone “to talk to” so I can move on. And this morning I called the chiropractor. It’s either my heart making my back hurt or my back making my heart hurt. I’m not wasting any more time…. gonna fix ‘em both up. And take a load off….