Don't do that.

Friday morning I was predictably masochistic and checked out a bunch of facebook accounts of people I'm not longer friend with (but we still have common friends). It made me feel so shitty. I got up feeling fucking weird, and had a lot of shame about my life, and where I'm at now (on paper: living with my mom, being broke, being overweight) and I was just going to spiral.

I made my way into the city, and while I was making my coffee at work I started thinking about why I wasn't friends with these people, and if I did, indeed, want to re-establish this links, and if I missed them, and if so, why. I had a conversation with myself.

I miss the lightheartedness of that time of my life, and maybe the ignorance of it. It was pre-everything. I think the roots and "warning signs" of my anxiety and depression were indeed there, but they had not taken over yet, and there was still the energy of my youth, the prospects of the future, and a lot of unknowns.

I think I do hold a lot of shame and a lot of guilt about my body, and about my 20's.

I'm friends with great people now. My friends are totally different. They're supportive. They're empathetic. They're wildly smart. Things are different now, and I played an active role in that, and sometimes I forget that.

I'd been in a weird shitty funk this week. I've been stressed about the stability of my income / job and have been looking for something else. But, the economy is sketchy, the job market is quiet and overall jobs are just shit. Unless you're an engineer or in tech or finance finding a stable job is just the dumps.

I ended up feeling pretty shitty Thursday night, I was wishing I was dead, and just feeling useless. I often feel like I can't take care of myself, and can not depend on myself in a real way. I'm a bad depressive episode away from homelessness, at all times. That's my main fear.

I ended up e-mailing with a friend, who also has been struggling (though with different things) and this is part of that exchange:

Hey bud,
I wanted to reach out and kind of quasi-apologise. I've been in a weird funk for a few weeks now, and it's been getting worse. 

I feel like you've been going through a lot too, and I feel like I always put my foot in my mouth and say dumb things. 

I'm also super sensitive right now, and thus paranoid and anxious.  

Sometimes I'm just so self-conscious about it all that it's difficult to understand what other people see in me. I'm the one who lives in my head, so I envy those who get an edited version of everything that goes on in there.
I hope if ever there is something, you'd mention it to me. 

-- 

Aw buddy! I know how that feels - I have the same kind of self conscious thing with anxiety where I always feel like I said the wrong thing or whatever.  

Anyways - everything is fine! With us I mean. My personal life is another matter. No worries! I love ya and you are a great friend!  

-- 

lol - "my personal life is another matter" is how I feel right now. 

This morning a friend linked to a bunch of old friends of mine on Facebook and it brought up a ton of garbage emotions. Mainly shame and guilt and just self-loathing. I'm trying to be positive but I have this feeling like I want to cry so badly, like a good sob, but it's all caught in my arteries. Is that a crazy feeling?  

Like - this is a weird fucking thing to say, but I was always kind of jealous of L's depression/anxiety cause she can cry. From the outside, it looks cathartic. For me, it all internalized into these weird sensations, but there's no release. I wish I could cry it out, you know? 

You're so great I'm sorry you're going through a hard time. 

--

I mean, it's nothing magical. But it is kind, and supportive, and understanding. And yah, it isn't perfect, I re-read what I wrote and to me I hear a frantic undertone, which is difficult.

Thursday I was bugging out. 

I was just out of it - I felt like I checked out. I felt like I needed to be in a padded room. I'd been having a few days of brain zapping - something that apparently happens when you forget to take your meds. Though, I have been taking my meds. I was feeling dissociative and "floaty" and having trouble focusing or paying attention. If I turned around too quickly I felt wobbly/not-solid and kind of like I might walk into a doorframe or wall as I walked past them. I kept "hearing" brain zaps in my inner ear/head and it was just not pleasant. It's very difficult to explain. 

I'm feeling better, I've been sleeping and today I'm at home catching up and stuff, and I have to do my 24-hour urines test to track my cortisol levels. 

I wanted to write about it on Thursday and Friday, but I was having a  lot of trouble concentrating and had to keep the focus I had to get through the work day. 

On having my mother.

I was just reading an article on the amount of 20-30 something's moving back into their family home.

In an era of sky-high tuition and soaring housing costs, they argue the group known as Generation Screwed can help unscrew themselves by moving home to pay off debt.

I pay rent, but significantly less than I would on my own. Instead, I'm able to put large chunks of cash on paying off my debt. I'm 2,000$ away from that goal. Then, I'll be saving up, and be in a position to have a down-payment I could never have saved up while paying 800$+ on rent and living costs.

I'm grateful to my mom for not kicking me out when things were really rough for me. I'm also lucky that she and I get along well enough for this to be possible for me. Sure, sometimes she watches Ancient Alien Secrets Revealed and it drives me nuts, but other times she bring me her iPad so I can see a video of a baby goat playing with a puppy.

It can't be easy being the parent of someone who is suffering from unipolar depression. It's taken over a decade for me to get a handle on myself, and there were periods of my life where I was so despondent and miserable. I can't really imagine what that's like for her.

I've asked my mother about her mother, my Nana, and she's often expressed that she didn't feel especially loved or wanted by her mother. She kind of felt like her mother didn't want to be a mother. I've never felt that with my mom. First, she tried for four years to get pregnant with me. But mainly she was always present and loving and kind. I always felt loved by her.

We've had some tough moments. I remember overhearing her one night when I was in the depths of things, and I had just gained a lot of weight, she was expressing not being able to recognize me, and used the term "disgusted" in my weight gain. It hurt me tremendously. She was drunk, and talking to her best friend.

Maybe that added to the pile of shame I was already feeling.

Another time, while I was unemployed I decided to get my hair done. It ended up being lavender, and a little rock and roll. She freaked out. To her, it was an expression of "not giving a shit" and making it harder on myself to get a job. She has the same reaction when I get tattoos. The hair though, on top of being unemployed, burst a dam, and she screamed at me and cried. I ended up staying with a friend for a few days.

But, those examples are the exception.

I have much more in me about her rubbing my back while I was having a panic attack at 5 in the morning before a radio show interview. Or her presence throughout my childhood, at hot-dog days and bake sales.

I remember her tucking me in, and cuddling with me.

I remember my throw-up bucket when I was sick. lol.

I keep telling her not to do my laundry, but she keeps doing it.

Maybe the opposite of depression is a mother's love. A mother who loves being a mother. A mother cradling you in a warm, loving hug and rocking you back and forth. Real comfort.

You were wanted, and you're here, and they celebrate you.

I sometimes wish I had more siblings, so she could have other children to be proud of, and to gain from. She got kind of a dud with me.

I often feel a lot of guilt for being such a burden on her all these years. It's hard not to carry that with me. I'm going to try and look forward, and hope that the worst is behind me.

If all of this worked my empathy muscles, and my ability to relate and appreciate, maybe it'll make me a better daughter, as well as a better person to be around.

I'll never know what it is to feel that. I've only ever been on the receiving end of it. I've never wanted children, and though I can feel protective and maternal towards my nephews, or towards a baby, I do not have any desire to have one of my own.

When I see my friends going through it, I see the distinction between those having children and those who want them so badly, and get them. My friend C tried for years, and now that she has a newborn, I couldn't be happier for her. And no doubt, she'll live in the vein of motherhood lived in my by mother. Some people fit their vocations and passions so well, and I think for my mother that was motherhood.

She is not perfect. She is not a disciplinarian. There were times as a teenager when that's what I needed. But since my father died when I was 13, both she and I were left on our own. She married my father at 21. That's unimaginable to me. She was completely dependent on him. Also unimaginable to me.

As the fog of my depression lifts, I hope to continue to improve my relationship with her. I hope to remain grateful for her. I plan on spending as much time with her as I can. So much of my history is lost to me. There are so few memories. I want to enjoy my mother. I want to remember her, because she'll eventually leave me.

I'm grateful for her. And I can't even think about where I'd be without her.

I might not always be happy I was born, but I'm always happy she's my mother.

"You don’t have to be grateful that it isn’t worse."

I am guilty of this, the guilt of "not having it that bad compared to others."

A lot of times survivors get trapped in a cycle of minimizing/diminishing their trauma because "other people have it worse" - but there is no hierarchy of trauma. There is no ranking system for which traumas are "better" or "worse." Your trauma is valid. Period.

Originally seen on kill your anxiety. Original thought attributed to Autistic Abby. Above quote by biwomensupport.

Illustration by Eleanor Davis.

Illustration on comforting, soothing and forgiving yourself. Often very difficult. I know I struggle with guilt, shame and forgiveness. Very effective illustration.

Take a look at Eleanor Davis' portfolio. I'm happy I was able to link back to her site. I saw her illustration on Tumblr - and sometimes it can be a rabbit-hole for trying to find the original source.