Ever once in awhile I get super depressed.
Not “hide the razorblades” depressed, but more “eat too much, watch an Office rerun and pig out on LifeSavers” depressed.
I’m bummed about finances.
Thankfully I’m not a debt person – I mean I pay a mortgage, but no other obligations. I have to write the government a big tax check by December 31st because I incorporated to save on taxes. The crappy part is that I now have to pay by December 31st instead of next April like the rest of you.
And this check is a big check. It’s going to decimate my savings.
I mean, it’s fair. I owe it. Huge bummer.
During these times I lean on my friends and family. I immediately called up the woman I’m seeing and started literally yelling about what a failure I am, how I screw everything up, and how my life is spiraling down the drain, and even worse stuff. I was spinning way out of control.
I have yet to learn how to feel sad and scared without turning inward to hate myself. I blame myself for all my stress. This is why I need people. To pull me from the edge and bring me back into reality.
The truth is that I’m a fantastic person and I succeed at virtually everything I do. People love me, and I love others. I need my friends and family to remind me of this when I get sad.
And then I can focus on the feelings and not the judgment. The judgment is that I’m a failure, but that’s not actually true. What’s true is that I have sadness, anger, fear, and shame, and I don’t how to sit with these states. So, I just blame myself.
Once I’m restored to sanity by others, I now have to sit with the pain. There is nothing I want to do less. It takes courage, which I often can’t seem to summon. So, instead of escaping, I’m sitting around in the bedroom, in the dark, on a Friday night.
Don’t feel sorry for me. This is the path. It’s the only way through it.
And when I start spinning into judgment, I reach out and people save me. That’s why I need you.
By the way, if this is your first time reading my site, head over to the right and read one of my funny stories. This is not funny. Just in case you didn’t know what is funny. And if this is funny to you, you ought to stop what you’re doing, like right now, jump in a cab, and head over the hospital. Tell them you read this article and started laughing like a maniac. Maybe print out a copy before you leave the house. Show the nurse. Also, make a call to a neighbor to help feed the cat. You’ll be away for awhile.
Oh, this is kind of funny. I learned that something I do constantly, texting while making a boom is called shexting. I shexted twice today. Probably to you.