What the hell is wrong with me that I feel this way? I know that’s not the right question or comment to be making to myself, but it does seem to keep coming out.
I don’t know if there is a clinical scale for depression, you know, like from mild sadness to darkness so bad if you could only move you’d kill yourself just so the suffering would stop, but if there is I’m somewhere between mild and medium. Bad enough that all I feel like doing is lie on the sofa reading fantasy, binge-watching netflix and aimlessly clicking around the internet. And sleep. Although once in bed, sleep is proving to be a bit elusive. Not nearly bad enough that a suicide watch need be kept on me.
The triggering event was my daughter leaving for college. Yes, I do still have the boy child for another four years so I’m not really an empty-nester, but dang, I do miss that girl! She and I laugh at the same stupid things, different things than those that the male people in my house do. We can admire each others’ toe nail polish, borrow scarves and jewelry, talk about relationships and emotions, snicker at the same videos, wax wroth at the same sexism exhibited in society, all kinds of stuff. While we can talk on the phone, text, etc. it’s just not the same. And besides, she needs to be out there separating, becoming an adult, growing up and finding a life out there in the world that isn’t based in this house. So that’s hard.
Then there is the understanding that my primary job, the one I’ve had for 18 years, is coming to an end. My pink slip is waving on the horizon. And while that is happening, the things I have been doing outside of motherhood have lost their interest and savor for me. That, by the way, is not from the depression, it’s from outside crap happening to them. So I’m feeling at somewhat of a loss. What do I do now? I don’t know. What do I want to do? I’m not really sure.
So that’s the trigger but the depression is more than just sadness. And it sucks. And I keep thinking, what the hell? My kids are happy and healthy and on their way to becoming responsible, caring adults; the rest of my family is doing fine; we have enough money; my life is really pretty damn good, so what the hell do I have to complain about? And that, obviously, doesn’t help.
I do know that eventually this will pass, but I gotta say, I really deeply truly don’t like living here.