The Girl Without A Face

I woke up this morning still under the blanket of depression, ever since Saturday evening it’s been covering me. Holding me securely to the ground. I’ve read in many books and have seen many therapists say to treat depression like an actual sickness, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do to kick it. I still went to the gym yesterday morning, I was even talking on the phone to my friend while on the elliptical (apologies out to any surrounding gym members). I struggle to reach out for help, but her and I exchanged messages in the morning. I was joking in a dark way, so she called me, “You know you can call me if you’re having a hard time.” “I know”, I said. It’s just an unnatural feeling.

I was able to pinpoint why it’s so difficult for me to ask for help. Because when I asked for anything when I was a teenager I was typically met with excuses or a huge sigh in response. I tried as quickly as possible to no longer be a burden to anyone, to no longer have to ask for anything, and quite frankly that is what I was told to do. That is what my parents wanted. I was praised for working 2 or 3 jobs, quitting any typical teenage activities. I felt like an adult. I never asked for a thing. I took care of my own meals (they were not healthy). No one checked in on me. Many times I was left alone in the apartment while my mom was out of state with her boyfriend. At the time, as a teenager, this was considered cool by my friends. They could come over, we could drink and smoke. There was no one watching me. It felt like my mom was a passing roommate. My sister has already moved states away with her boyfriend. My dad was pretty much MIA. So I became shakily self-reliant. No one has ever taken accountability for the ways in which they failed me during this time. In fact, I was blamed for making their lives harder. For acting out. For being rebellious in school. For cutting class. This carried on even into adulthood, my mom would bring up how awful I was in my teenage years. This would cut me somewhere and it was easier to blame myself, but really the wound was abandonment. And at that time it was their job to care for me.

How does this relate to my depression bout this weekend and today? I know, I know, it seems irrelevant. It goes back to the fact I have to call the plumber today, I tried a concoction to clear the clogged pipe that didn’t work yesterday. Then I layed on my couch, I took a bath, I layed in my bed, I still feel out of it. I just want to lay down forever. I don’t want to work today. I want to crawl in my bed and never leave. I feel like I could sleep for 12 more hours. I can’t call into work, I know my job is easy. I just work from home. I have a million things that I could’ve gotten done, but I just couldn’t over the weekend. I have the typical driving around after work for my son, life goes on, regardless whether or not I feel up to it.

I suppose the biggest thing I’m struggling with is that there is still no one to call. Yes, my friend said that I could call her, but I’m not going to put any burden on her. More than a conversation, that is enough. The point is I don’t have a foundation, I don’t have any family that has ever said, “Hey let me help you, what do you need.” I dont have a dad that comes over and checks around to see what he can fix. I don’t have a mom that comes over on Sundays and shares her recipes. I have the damage they left after they moved on with their lives, leaving me behind. I’m an adult now, but they didn’t put any effort in to raise me to be who I am now. I was 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th on the list on priorities. I always will be. The overwhelming weight of life alone is crushing. Not every day, not all the time, just in certain moments or events. Just when something breaks that a dad could fix. Or when you could use the comforting care of a mom. But it’s just you. And it always has been. The weight of it makes me want to lie in bed until the feeling passes again.