Ya know. it might be ancient history, but I think having two boyfriends in my 20s leave me because I was "too depressed" to be with, despite many years and other boyfriends passing, that seems to have branded me with BROKEN, a belief that ok, they're right, I'm not fit to be someone's partner. Nevermind that they (none of them flawless, goddammit!) have had many partners/marriages/children since, that everyone else has moved on, that I think I'd be a good partner, that depression does not = incapacitated. It still lingers.
It's been a tough time, esp since getting back from CA on Mon. Running up against everything that is difficult: being alone, money issues, being chased for money, feeling like a failure on every front, most esp professionally. Despite the fact that in name I'm the executive director of WACA and our festival was a great success, it was very difficult for me, it's Lisa that people gravitate to and rightfully so. She's a powerhouse (whereas) I'm literally intimidated by everyone. That's not a good quality for a leader of any kind. I felt sweaty and gross and frantic and ugly and fat the whole weekend. I'm glad that everyone's having such enormous professional successes, but could I get just a tiny taste of it? Just a celebration once in a while?
I feel like there's noone really to talk to, as the bf has lots of things she's dealing with and I don't want to bother her, I'm being called on to (ironically) help with the people in the family who are dealing with their own issues. The CA family is having some serious issues that noone's dealing with, and one of soon-to-be new members of the family appealed to me when we were alone* (we took BART together when he was going to work and I was going to the airport) to try to get the word out about what's going on in this corner of the family. And he's right - it's supremely fucked. The players are all psych professionals with apparently no concept of the fact that there are serious problems that need dealing with, if not hospitalization for one person. It's nice to have my sister and soon-to-be BIL on board to hash through these things. At least it feels like there's one corner of stability. But still I don't want to talk to her about my struggles because she doesn't tend to be sensitive at times.
My own therapist thinks that if I'm still feeling this crushing anxiety (which I am), that a med adjustment is in order, and the fact that I am not arguing tells me that this is pretty bad. I've been having active, anxiety dreams and I wake up shaking (it's ok, says neuro, but it sure doesn't feel ok). Last night: I was moving into one tiny room (basically my current bedroom) and trying to move all my little tables (because I can't afford large grownup furniture like adults do) and books into this small space. I was giving lots of books about psych (not sure why I had them) to a friend [who I just saw in CA who is in constant hype mode. She doesn't ever stop promoting/bragging about herself. It's exhausting and I wonder if that's what I should be doing too. It's just not in my DNA.]
I think a lot about whether or not the "stuff" I have should be gotten rid of. I'd like to move and because, again, I can't afford things adults do, I've already been encouraged to toss things to make a move easier. But I don't have *that* much, compared to people who have basements and/or attics and housefuls of stuff. The New BIL jettisoned tons of shit to move to CA (of course he was moving into an already furnished place with my sister), but others I know keep collecting junky things that serve no purpose just because. I try to curate. Only get and keep things that really mean something to me. Donate/purge periodically. I have good taste and some nice things, eg I was just looking at a black owl statue that one of the abovementioned boyfriend's grandmother gave me. It's gorgeous and I love it. It sits on my dresser and the only other thing there is a jewelry box. I don't feel like I have a home (literally or figuratively, via another person), so these things are comforting to me.
*this guy is so astonishingly good looking. I kept thinking that people on the train were probably wondering what this ugly old lady was doing with him.
It's been a tough time, esp since getting back from CA on Mon. Running up against everything that is difficult: being alone, money issues, being chased for money, feeling like a failure on every front, most esp professionally. Despite the fact that in name I'm the executive director of WACA and our festival was a great success, it was very difficult for me, it's Lisa that people gravitate to and rightfully so. She's a powerhouse (whereas) I'm literally intimidated by everyone. That's not a good quality for a leader of any kind. I felt sweaty and gross and frantic and ugly and fat the whole weekend. I'm glad that everyone's having such enormous professional successes, but could I get just a tiny taste of it? Just a celebration once in a while?
I feel like there's noone really to talk to, as the bf has lots of things she's dealing with and I don't want to bother her, I'm being called on to (ironically) help with the people in the family who are dealing with their own issues. The CA family is having some serious issues that noone's dealing with, and one of soon-to-be new members of the family appealed to me when we were alone* (we took BART together when he was going to work and I was going to the airport) to try to get the word out about what's going on in this corner of the family. And he's right - it's supremely fucked. The players are all psych professionals with apparently no concept of the fact that there are serious problems that need dealing with, if not hospitalization for one person. It's nice to have my sister and soon-to-be BIL on board to hash through these things. At least it feels like there's one corner of stability. But still I don't want to talk to her about my struggles because she doesn't tend to be sensitive at times.
My own therapist thinks that if I'm still feeling this crushing anxiety (which I am), that a med adjustment is in order, and the fact that I am not arguing tells me that this is pretty bad. I've been having active, anxiety dreams and I wake up shaking (it's ok, says neuro, but it sure doesn't feel ok). Last night: I was moving into one tiny room (basically my current bedroom) and trying to move all my little tables (because I can't afford large grownup furniture like adults do) and books into this small space. I was giving lots of books about psych (not sure why I had them) to a friend [who I just saw in CA who is in constant hype mode. She doesn't ever stop promoting/bragging about herself. It's exhausting and I wonder if that's what I should be doing too. It's just not in my DNA.]
I think a lot about whether or not the "stuff" I have should be gotten rid of. I'd like to move and because, again, I can't afford things adults do, I've already been encouraged to toss things to make a move easier. But I don't have *that* much, compared to people who have basements and/or attics and housefuls of stuff. The New BIL jettisoned tons of shit to move to CA (of course he was moving into an already furnished place with my sister), but others I know keep collecting junky things that serve no purpose just because. I try to curate. Only get and keep things that really mean something to me. Donate/purge periodically. I have good taste and some nice things, eg I was just looking at a black owl statue that one of the abovementioned boyfriend's grandmother gave me. It's gorgeous and I love it. It sits on my dresser and the only other thing there is a jewelry box. I don't feel like I have a home (literally or figuratively, via another person), so these things are comforting to me.
*this guy is so astonishingly good looking. I kept thinking that people on the train were probably wondering what this ugly old lady was doing with him.
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