I find it ironic that The Geekhiker left a comment on may last post asking when I sleep, or something to that effect. I did not sleep well at all last night, at first unable to get to sleep and then what sleep I had was broken up by strange, vivid dreams that I can’t quite remember this morning. I don’t know if the entire house was picking up on my restlessness or vice versa, but it did not seem like there was a time through the night when all of us were asleep at the same time. Sam was having a nightmare, crying loudly in his sleep; he did not wake up, but he woke Hannah up, who could not go back to sleep until the dogs stopped pacing, at which point Owen got up and decided it was time to play, which woke Eli up and made him angry…so went the night.
It has not been the best series of days, and I feel yet another depression coming on. I guess it is progress in that at least I can be aware that it is coming and take certain steps to batten down the hatches, so to speak, but there seems to be nothing I can do to STOP it from coming. I even know what is causing it, but I can’t change that either. I cannot change the way that it keeps coming back to the fact that nothing really changes. There are the same problems with Steve where HE gets confused and therefore has decided that instead of trying to figure out why he is confused, he totally cuts off all meaningful contact. There are the same problems with money, the same problems with mothers pitting themselves against one another, the same problems in that we single mothers are being dragged through the press and the cause of all crime in the nation….and I am right back to where I was a few months ago wondering why I even keep trying to make a difference. Why I keep trying so hard to just love people, to be present, to try to love them where they are instead of where I want them to be.
One of the many books I have been reading is about this Universal Unitarian minister (not one of the books I was reading before, I am done with all but one of them and have begun a new batch), and I have to say that what they believe follows along pretty much what I believe, or vice versa. Which is comforting in that there is actually name for it other than “liberal tree hugging man hating lesbian bitch who is going to hell because she believes that gay marriage is okey–dokey and there is no reason why a woman shouldn’t be able to have an abortion.” For one thing, it sounds much nicer, and rolls off the tongue much more smoothly. Anyway, one of the main things that this particular minister believes is what I believe, that when we die, we just die. Maybe we are wrong and there is this wonderful afterlife full of partying at Jebus‘ feet, or maybe we are reincarnated, or maybe there really is a heaven and a hell and limbo and all of that. But for me, I just think we get buried and we rot in the ground. That’s it. What that has to do with my depression is that I am 37 years old, and I am going to rot and the bugs are going to eat my eyes out and what will I have to show for it? Because nothing.fucking.changes.
*****I just realized something when I came in to fix a spelling error I noticed. I am not, in fact, 37, I am only 36. I am not sure if that makes me feel better because I am younger than I thought, or worse because I am clearly losing my mind. Whatever.*****
I don’t know. I am just in a pissy mood, I don’t know what direction I am supposed to take now, and I can’t even see the next fucking step. I am not good at waiting, and I am tired of feeling like I have no SAY in what happens. Not in the sense of being a victim, I don’t mean that-I have options, always, but I am just tired of feeling like it has to be so fucking HARD all of the time. So-that is where I am at again today. If I keep getting up in the mornings, keep showing up and doing the work, grace will arrive. It always does. But for now, I am just confused and sad and I don’t even have the energy to be angry.