Sunday, August 28

nothing new

There is nothing new under the sun. Apparently. Well sometimes there is new stuff, but then it turns out it's actually been before. Like crafting.

I used to hate hate hate creating things that came into my mind, making them into reality, and then someone else straight away copying them. Badly. And selling them for cheaply. But the irony is that even though I thought I was being original, I wasn't. My ideas came from my collective memory of pictures, ideas, things seen once and then seemingly forgotten. I would forget, and then sketching on paper, when the creative juices were flowing, I would create something original and yet entirely based on other people's ideas. Ok, not as bad as copying though, right? That's just cheating.

So I'm good and depressed again, which is depressing in itself, and makes me confused about what I'm doing. And it's just the same as every other period of depression. I feel like it's different, it's new, that I've never thought these things before, but really they all come back to thoughts, fears, memories, negative mindsets that I've had before. Totally unoriginal.

And what I hate about this mirey clay that is weighing down my feet, is that it means I am wrong, I really can't actually cope with life's little trials, and I cannot expect to cope with anything more.

And it makes itself into a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'm the man in the story who's drowning, and turns down a helicopter, a lifeboat, everything that comes, because he's sure God will save him.

I know the tools to save myself, I know the people who are trustworthy, that I can call or email, there are so many of them I am spoilt for choice. And I have learnt, been trained, to call them when it gets like this. And yet. And yet. I cannot, or I will not.

The reason? Or at least what I think of as a reason? Because they have all helped me so much in the past. They have all been there for me. And not ages ago, but only a few weeks ago. They helped me get to appointments, they brought me food, they looked after my children, they called or emailed or messaged me to let me know they were thinking of me. And so, I feel unable to call on them again.

One of my biggest fears, and I don't know if it's just me, or if it's a general depressed-person thingy(that's the technical term), is that I' m scared of being a burden. I have been a burden to many people, and I have been a charity case for some, some because they were genuinely charitable, others because having charity served them well. I've been used, and I've used. And I just want to be people's friend.

And what I find, is that of all the people who love me, who are there for me when times get tough, I start to wonder of them... do they really like me? For me? For the Well me? Do they really think I'm funny or kind or nice? Or, do they care for me like for an old pet, because they worry about me, and they are good people.

I know I've gone on about this before, and I'm sure to go on about it again. I know, I know how insecure it sounds, how insecure it is. But I can't call them, because they are getting tired of it. I know the signs. Or at least, the paranoid version of me that is currently occupying my space thinks she knows the signs! Messages and emails unreturned. Busyness, busyness everywhere. And yes, when I'm well, I'm ok with the fact that everyone is busy, I sympathise, I seem to be busy myself. But when the murkiness falls and my mental and emotional vision blurs, I am lonely and bored, and if I do not have a plan that involves other people, I am more than likely to drop the kids at school and kindy, and go back to bed.

And I really really need people to seek me out for a coffee or a movie or a playdate, but they don't, because they are really busy, and a bit tired of looking after me(Again, I must reiterate, I have no idea how much of this is true. I am completely aware of my skewed perspective on reality, but I have no way of knowing what is real any more and what is just imagined).

So I am huffing about, staying in bed all weekend and whenever possible on weekdays, and of course, because I am all messed up in the head right now. I actually push people away, the very people who could help me if I asked! Instead of bowling up to them and saying Heeeeeelp, I scowl and turn away, and if they meet my eyes I look away.

For example(this is just how F#@$d up my brain works) there is a certain group of people at the moment, who I think should be more friendly, more generous with themselves to everyone. It frustrates me that, despite their leadership positions that seem(in my mind anyway) to implicitly equal kindness, charity, basically pastoral care, they are all shy, retiring, never hang around at any time for social chit chat, and although they should be the kind of people one runs up to to greet in the street, would probably look away or maybe at most smile awkwardly and shuffle away. And the ironic thing is I'm passionate about them becoming friendly, and I'm aware that they're all shy or not exactly people-persons, and I KNOW that that starts with each individual, with ME bowling up to them and saying Hi! I'm Rachel! I've known you for X amount of years! How are you doing?, instead of all of that I scowl, and I feel hurt that they've known me for X amount of years and still have trouble making eye contact, and so if they do look at me I look away, or I feel dreadfully sad, even teary, that they care so little for everyone including myself, or I sulk.

And in my dreadful screwed up mind, it's because I'm testing them, just like I test everyone like this. Will they push through my barrier? Will they see through my perverse test? Will they recognise that I need help? And of course, they can't win, no one can win that game! How can anyone know that if I brush past them or meet their eyes and then look away sadly, that any of that means HEEEELPP! I"M SAD AND I WANT YOU TO RECOGNISE ME!

And so I push people away, I push my friends away, and I get lonelier and lonelier, and angrier and angrier that despite my rudeness no one is rescuing me.

Oh it's so screwed up it does my head in! No wonder I'm terrible at relationships! I get to about a 2 or 3 year line and then STALL!

If you're a person who's never been really truly depressed, you will wonder that the motherfather I am going on about. You will think I am crazy, mad, dangerous, in desperate need of psychiatric help. You may wonder about my children's safety *, my own safety, whether you should step in, or just run away. On behalf of depressed people everywhere, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry we seem rude at times, I'm sorry that we push you away even though you love us. I'm sorry that there doesn't seem to be anything you can do right.

If you know someone who is like this, who is driving you mad with rudeness and self-pity, with their inability to shower daily or return your phone calls, please please, keep trying. Don't give up on us.

I was talking a while back with a friend(who is a SUPER DUPER friend), who was describing another friend of hers, someone I also know, who is high maintenance. Who is hard to be friends with, and emotionally draining to talk to, who sucks the joy out of life. And I was sympathising, like yeah I totally know what you're talking about, those friends are HIGH maintenance, man they're such hard work, and then I realised !FLASH! she was talking about ME! She wasn't really talking about me, Rachel, she was describing her friend, but I realised, my good golly, I am She. I am the high maintenance, desperate, clingy, needy, emotionally draining girlfriend that everyone has. You've all got a Me in your life.

I'm so sorry.

Please, if you know a Me, just keep on going. I know we are hard to live with, but there are freaking lots of us, and all we really want to know, us depressed psycho crazy chicks(and dudes: let's not stereotype here!), is that we are really loved by someone for who we really are. None of us are original. All of our issues, our grief, our heartbreak, it's not new. There have been depressed people all throughout history, so don't be surprised. Just be tough.

*re the children: they're FINE! they're great in fact! Actually I'm totally loving hanging out with both of them right now, they are both going through such great stages, and unlike my normal 'bouts' I am not feeling crabby or impatient, so they're in good hands. :)


Stacy said...

Bahaha!! The great thing about being honest in your blog is that you can say what you really need without saying it specifically to anyone!! You are truly adorable, generous, loving, funny, caring and fun to be with (whether you are in the grips of depression or just feeling good with the world!!) Love you through the good times and the bad, the tough times and the glorious times.... just plain love you whatever. And I know I'm not the only one!!! xox

Marion said...

amen sister. I feel like this a lot. I hate the isolation of depression. Recently I have had to accept that I cannot bear being 'saved' by people who are not real friends when I am well. It is so hard to realise that when I am desperate I have been vulnerable with people who don't reciprocate. But I guess I do feel now that I know who I can trust to care for me through good and bad. At the moment I feel like I am asking for help and support all the time and it is so hard to be the needy one. It makes me feel stink. But there is no way around it. And I guess I hope it makes me more genuine with other people. I never want to be that friend who helps out cause it is the 'right' thing to do but isn't really there all the time.
Hugs to you. You are a friend for all seasons.