To Feel Alive

Not sure how to talk today. Something needs to change. I am failing at things so important to me.

I feel like I should go live in a cave where who I am won’t hurt others. Where I won’t destroy lives.

But even still, as I sit and write these words, I still have the fight within me. I still can recognize these are not the only voices inside of me. I call upon the words that tell me I can fix things, which tell me I can fight day by day.

But how is that fair to those who love the happy me? It isn’t. This is where the loop of depression tries to tangle me up.

Depression sinks its greedy claws into my thoughts and makes me feel like I should remove myself, that that’s what people really want, that that’s the only thing that will cure the people who love me. My removal.

I toss around the idea of pretending to be happy. I really do. Perhaps this is what others do. Perhaps this is what I need to do. Perhaps I am weak for giving into depression. Perhaps it really is a character flaw and not an illness.

I don’t know right now. I don’t know.

So I’m just trying to shake it out. I’m not trying to feel joy. I’m just trying to feel alive.

Let It Out

Express yourself.

Have you ever stopped and asked yourself what that actually means?

Express yourself.

What is the “yourself” that can be expressed? I feel like I’ve been trying to figure it out my whole life and I come up with different answers as I move through life.

I’ve tried many methods of expression: acting, dancing, modeling, writing, teaching. A lot of the time I’ve been expressing others’ words or ideas or what I think other people want and expect to see and hear.

Now that I’ve given myself free reign to express whatever is “myself,” I want to really get to the core of who I am when I express.

Sometimes I feel like that expression may just come out as pure feeling—like rage at certain injustices I see in the world. Other times, I feel like the expression is just a quiet whimper of emptiness that just wants to be seen and acknowledged.

I think we all have a need to express ourselves, to be seen, to be heard, to be understood.

Is it enough to just express or do we need a receiver on the other end? Does having someone witnessing our expression make the experience feel richer?

I think behind a lot of my expression is also the desire to reach others in some way, for them to be able to relate or be inspired, entertained or educated. So I think an audience can be very fulfilling.

I totally get it when Lady Gaga sings, “I live for the applause, applause, applause.”

I remember the days of applause and it did feel good.

Mix It Up

What would I do if I could do anything?

Why do I feel like I can’t do anything?

The things I do do, I feel like they are never good enough for this world that seems to demand perfection.

What would make me happy? If I knew I couldn’t fail, what would I do differently? What would I try?

For someone who was a stripper and a nude model, why am I so afraid to expose myself now? Because I’m afraid of failure. I’m afraid of never being good enough.

What is the antidote for feeling never good enough? I think it’s got to be to do what I want anyway, regardless of whether I’m good or not because if I’ll never think I’m good enough, if I don’t do something, I won’t do anything.

I guess I really need to figure out what’s most important to me, what brings me, or might potentially bring me, the most joy, then I need to do that thing.

Regardless of anything. 

I need to start allowing myself to do what I want even if it doesn’t fit into the mold that the world and I have accepted or deemed appropriate for me.

The Way I Feel

The world loves a winner. The world loves a winner who was a loser at some point even more. A beautiful, inspiring tale of—been there, done that, but look at me now, taking the high road!

The world does not love losers when they’re losing though.

When I was a stripper, I felt like people were always embarrassed for me, sad. Most people shook their heads and wondered why I was doing what I was doing when I could be doing so much more.

I was confused. Yes, of course, there were many horrible aspects to what I was experiencing, but I was also having fun. Little was required of me except to be pretty and dance. I could find employment wherever I went. I could step out of the real world and just dance.

For someone with depression, being able to step out of reality in a somewhat healthy way can be life-saving.

And being told I was pretty when I felt valueless was life-affirming.

What can I do now? I remind myself of my value because I know this is one of my underlying roots of depression. I know it has to be enough that I recognize my value as a human being, but oftentimes it doesn’t feel like enough to sustain me throughout the day.

I find myself tumbling back to a thought I often find myself face-to-face with, others cannot understand what I go through. They get tired of my state of being. At what point does it become unfair to them to have to live with someone who feels the way I do?

Good Days and Bad Days

Today I told my husband that I was fucking miserable.

And being the most awesome husband in the world, he told me to stop doing whatever is making me miserable. He told me to do what I feel I need to.

But I pointed out that I can’t stop doing the things that are making me miserable: raising a family, working, etcetera.

And he pointed out that I can.

I suppose I can or could. I could wake up one day and just not give my kids breakfast. I could not make their lunches. I could not go to work. I could not handle any of the zillion responsibilities I have.

But maybe my greatest fear is that even then, I would still be miserable.

Is it my life situation that creates my depression?

No, I really don’t think so. Would I be any happier if I had a nanny and no money worries? Well, probably, but I don’t think that would make everything better.

Would I like to run away to where no one needs anything from me? Where there are no demands made upon me?

Yes, I suppose that sounds nice, but I know that’s not what is going to make me “happy.”

I think one of my biggest fears is that nothing can make me happy. That this is who I am and I’m doomed to fight the rest of my life.

This is not me speaking, I remind myself for the umpteenth time. This is my depression. And today it has the upper hand and I just feel like crying.