I Am Barely Breathing

and I can't find the air. Don't know who I'm kidding, imagining you care. I could stand here waiting, fool for another day. I don't suppose it's worth the price that I would pay. But I'm thinking it over anyway.

Thank you, Duncan Sheik. I'd rather be relating to his happier hit "I'm on a high... there's nothing more to it; I have the sun, it's a star, why should I refuse it..." In time.

So, truth is, I'm depressed. I have been for most of the last year and a half at least, with the exception of a few months of feeling like the pieces of my life were coming together how I'd hoped they eventualy would -- getting my job back, buying a house, starting to settle down, getting to know a new love. And then it just crumbled away, day by day. Buying a house was very stressful. Getting my settlement and having to make the payments and the calls to collection agencies to get the correct bills and get everything settled was stressful. Finding out that my credit now sucks because I got turned over to a collection agency while I was in Texas and too stressed to pay attention and also didn't have the $1000s to pay yet... that was stressful. Living with my parents, having no personal space, was stressful. Buying a house and buying furniture and thinking about the budgets for that and thinking about taking that big leap was stressful.

And I felt lower and lower. I had no friends in town to make plans with, so I could either sit home alone, go somewhere alone, or hang out with my family. Which is great; I love my family; but it's not the same. I felt like a friendless loser. I felt the low self-esteem come on that I felt when I was a shy, dorky middle schooler and would sit in my mom's kitchen after school every day because I didn't have friends (that I liked).

I built my life around men because 1) that was easier in a way than thinking through what I want and need, 2) I wanted to make things easier and pleasant, 3) I think deep down, I believe that I need to earn love, to make myself valuable in the relationship. And I think that probably puts tons of pressure on the relationship. I wonder if that makes a man feel like I've sometimes felt with my mom, knowing that I'm the center of her world most of the time, knowing that I'm "the best thing [she] ever did," knowing that she'd spend [almost] every moment with me if she could because she loves me that much -- it's overwhelming sometimes. It causes guilt because I can't compete with that. How can I give that much back? How can I just keep taking the love and not returning as much? Is that how my ex-boyfriends felt? Did I overwhelm them with love and attention?

And that love and attention was not self directed, it seems. Somehow I ended up feeling needy and pathetic and dependent emotionally on my last relationships. So when they fell apart, I fell apart. Everything I try to fill my day with just feels like a distraction, something to keep me occupied and to keep my mind busy with other thoughts. But the moment I'm done, the moment I'm again in my living room by myself, I feel overwhelmed with loneliness and... sorrow I guess. Then guilt, because I feel like I'm just being pathetic and weak.

When does it get better? I feel like I've had only moments of real, pure joy and happiness, maybe days, in the last year and a half. And lots of pain, and lots of crying, and lots of self-doubt, and lots of hurt. But also love. I have to admit that. Love. From family and friends. Lots of love but it's never quite enough.

I look outside and I know that it's beautiful. I know it, but I don't feel it. I see that the sun is out and I think to myself hey, it's sunny out, you have a space of your own, the sky is blue, there are little details that you notice that in poignant moments have really brought you joy -- like wind rippling over water. But I don't feel that. I just think it in my head. And then I feel like crying. Because life seems so purposeless and I feel purposeless and I don't even feel joy. There's not much that I look forward to, not much that I get excited about lately. I'm probably doing a lot of negative and inaccurate thinking...

I'm trying to do the things that I think will help. I'm trying to exercise. I eat right. I'll do better at taking vitamins. I'm trying to keep on top of work. I'm volunteering as a coach for a girls' running program. I tried going running with a women's community running group. I'm probably going to join my brother's gym. I've had a friend over for wine & convo. I've been trying to reach out and get together with other people who I used to know. I volunteered for PPP. I got to chat with my old buddy Jake. I'm working on my house projects. I even bought a workout dvd that I can do when I'm feeling a little lazier. I'm trying to give myself space (and slack); that's hard, that's the hardest part. I'm spending time with my family. I'm trying to get a descent night's sleep each night. I'm registering for parks & rec classes -- so far just golf (I know I've said I hate golf, well I've never tried it, I don't like the idea of golf, I think it sounds boring and tedious, plus I don't like mini-golf... but... I'm willing to give it a fair shot before I make my judgements). I want to try fly-fishing. I'm going to get my bike fixed so I can start riding it. I've tried going to coffeeshops to work to break up the monotony. And I'm starting to see a therapist... Still pretty undecided on the topic of anti-depressants (my therapist is encouraging, strongly encouraging, that I try them). I need to make some lists of what I want (I believe in making lists). I'm trying to write more on my blog...

I'm ready to write a happier blog entry. That's my next goal.