I have an appointment with my psychologist tomorrow. It’s amazing how many things can happen in nine days!! As I sit here an infomercial about depression and anxiety is on the tv. I have a book by the author, Lucinda Bassett, which my parents got me in the first few years after joy left my life. As I watched a bit of the infomercial I noticed all of the “subjects”—my cynical side says they are all acting—began experiencing their depression or anxiety at least ten years before I did!! Man the envy was potent to say the least. If you weren’t diagnosed until a later age, I am sorry if these words offend you. That was not my intention.
Yesterday I mentioned my feelings of nostalgia regarding her mother’s passing. I told her how those feelings seemed to appear when I clean or vacuum. She said two things: something to the effect of “that’s odd” and the second one being “your grandma was a big cleaner so maybe that is why your thoughts drifted in that direction.” While I was telling her this, the lump of tears was in my throat…I had to stop before I could say the words and gain the courage to let my walls down for a second. Seldom do I let my parents inside my psyche due to their reactions in the past. I guess considering we were driving to the store, it wasn’t the best time but somehow it came up. Nothing much came of it. Perhaps that also is why I don’t confide in either of them.
I had to put my earbuds in when my dad made a comment regarding Robin Williams…despite having grown up with his sarcastic and sometimes funny remarks, this one hit me hard…how could he say such a thing? The movie is What Dreams May Come and my dad’s comment was in reference to Robin Williams’ suicide. Normally—if the comment offended me in any other area like politics—I would speak up…I feel like a baseball bat just got slammed into my chest…I never thought he could be so callous…I am hoping it was just a temporary lack of judgment but just in case, I will tune him out with music. Considering the context of this movie, I expect more snide comments.
I cried myself to sleep last night. It occurred to me—after looking at a picture of my brother and I hugging at my 10th birthday party—that I may quite possibly never be able to open up to anyone, unless one of two things: I am paying them or they have actually walked several miles in my shoes. Knowing my parents have been married for 30 years and that my mom was planning her wedding at my age really brings a feeling of hopelessness and hopelessness to me. I really can’t see myself having the confidence to tell anyone my story. I hear the phrase “relationships are based on trust” and think ‘that rules me out instantly.’ There are too many incidents in my life where trust was broken or the trustee’s reaction wasn’t one of compassion but scorn.
My thoughts are darkening and I feel my mask thinning…even crying freely doesn’t accomplish much. A headache nearly always follows or the puffy eyes and red cheeks have to be explained. If I lie, I have to deal with the obsessive overplaying of the fact I lied. If I come clean, I feel like I am hanging on a cliff waiting to fall…maybe my mom used the correct word when she said my fears regarding driving can be put into the classification of paranoia. When I hear the word ‘paranoia,’ I think about the abnormal side of…eccentricities in people.