Genny learned to kiss today. It’s more of a lip smack than a kiss, but we’ll count it just the same. She also planted a big wet open mouth all over my chin a couple of times; I think those were kisses, too.
I had my second hypnotherapist visit today, which went very well. He didn’t actually hypnotize me—we just talked. It was very motivational and I left on a buzz and ready to take on some new writing projects. Now, will I be able to keep the forward thrust moving?
The most important point I must remember when it comes to dealing with my hatred of motherhood is that I am still doing quite a fine job of it. I mean—I am a perfectionist after all. Even though I am not thrilled with the day-to-day life I am living right now, I still love Genny. And it’s not like I have ever really loved normal day-to-day life, no matter what I was involved in.
That thought is just making me realize that perhaps I have never been truly happy as I suppose most normal people experience happiness. Is it that I have a mixed-up notion about what true happiness is? Or has depression always caused me to blame the external circumstances of my life for the sadness I feel? Maybe it doesn’t matter what is going on in my life—maybe I will always hate whatever I am doing.
Hmm…if I was just to assume that this is true, that it is not so much what I am doing in my life that I hate, but rather just this snarky depression making me think I hate whatever I’m doing, would that free me in any way to enjoy my life more? Maybe I can find a way to sidestep my depression by laughing when I feel hatred of everyday life knowing that I don’t really hate life, my depression only wants me to think that. But what does my depression gain from occupying me?
How interesting that I talk about my depression as though it is a thing of and to itself, like it’s not an illness or a feeling, but rather an unwelcome intruder creeping through my brain, trying to infiltrate my soul—well, no, I think the infiltration has already happened. I just have to find a way to force out the invader, so that I can enjoy watching my daughter grow up.
I imagine my whole life has been about trying to find ways to defeat the enemy. As an actress, I was allowed to be somebody else and escape my own darkness on a regular basis. As an exotic dancer, I got to pretend that I was a happy-go-lucky gal who just wanted to prance around naked. As a writer and a yogini, I get to delve into the meaning of the pit within me and try to find ways to restructure and deal with the darkness.
For Genevieve, I’d really like to banish depression once and for all, but I don’t want to put too much pressure upon myself and then only get more depressed because I don’t succeed.
And I come to the end of another day in my life. I close my eyes and see Genny’s drool-dripped chin telescoping toward me and I feel a wet pucker on my nose and I smile and I feel good.