Taking care of myself

Dinner was quick. Decadently creamy brie cheese spilling over crackers. No vegetables. No microwaving. Simple. Plain. Yes, I could have gone to the gym. Yes, I could eat healthier foods. But why? Why not just do what I want to do while I can in life? I have no one else that I’m responsible for other than myself. And even that, I do a mediocre job at. Taking care of myself is something that I’m still learning about. It’s something I had to learn anew three years ago. Because being in that relationship that I got out of was putting myself in harm’s way every day. It was not taking care of myself. I wasn’t able to. My therapist took care of me as best as he could during those years. And then I had to learn how to rebuild my life. I am strong. That’s what I have to tell myself.

I have more than 40 years left. What am I going to do with those years? Can I do something meaningful? My focus for the past eleven months has been staying out of the hospital. I don’t think I’ll truly believe I can stay out until five years has passed. I spent so much time in the hospital last year. I have a job now. It’s the first job I’ve had in about five years. That’s huge. Although, I tend to minimize the accomplishment and don’t see it as much of a feat. I see the things that I’m not accomplishing, which is that my cash flow is tight and I don’t have much money, that I am not doing a job which I enjoy, that I don’t like living in general, and that I don’t have many people around me. It takes time to improve on all of these aspects and I have all the time in the world, but I see my time as limited. I live from day to day and week to week, and somehow time continues to pass by, although I wish it wouldn’t. I am glad that I am no longer in my 20’s, but I am not yet comfortable with being in my 30’s.

I don’t have debt. I wiped that out with my bankruptcy. But I also don’t have any money saved for retirement. I haven’t bought a house yet. I don’t have a master’s degree. I feel like I don’t have family. And I’m lonely. I’m so lonely that I give my number out to almost any man who asks for it, and then regret giving my number out. Just tonight I had to tell a guy that I’m not interested in seeing him. I met him once. Not attractive at all. He kept calling me, persistently, and I continued to ignore the calls. Finally, I picked up tonight and told him I’m not interested. That was bold, he said. I know. I say it like it is. Take it personally or not, but stop calling me!

People my age have been married for five years and are starting to have kids. That’s how it was supposed to be. Thank God I didn’t become pregnant when we tried. That would have made life much harder. Sometimes I wish I could do my life over again. Be three years old and have a dad who doesn’t die, and grow up with both parents who are loving, caring, understanding, communicative, emotionally respectful, good at setting boundaries, supportive, physically affectionate. I want all of those things. I can’t have them. My mom did the best she could given the circumstances and she really did a fantastic job. She made a great income, provided for us, took us on vacations, managed to get us to see family even though we were in different countries, and that can get to be expensive, traveling. But I wanted to stay in one place and never go anywhere and have the same friends always.

The main thing is: I’m okay. That has been my theme. I’m okay. No one is hurting me right now. Nothing bad is happening to me. Everything is under control. My emotions are for the most part regulated. Things seem to be stable. I have this recurring thought, that I wish I didn’t have to work. I don’t like working. But that’s not true. I don’t like the job that I am doing, but if I found something I liked, I would enjoy going to work. If I didn’t work, I would never get out of bed, I would feel more depressed, I wouldn’t eat, and I would feel suicidal. Guaranteed within a week of not working all of those things would come up.

A friend called me. He wants to see me and wants to give me a big hug. Why do I not remember him as being a friend? I mean, we knew each other for two years, knew of each other, but we were not really friends. More like, acquaintances. And now I’m wary and I’m not sure what I’m getting myself into by agreeing to see him. He has a small child and he invited me to go to the park with them. I love children. But I don’t want to get “involved”. What am I doing? I’m desperate for reasons not to stay in bed on the weekends, and so, I’ll explore this relationship and see what it’s about. I have to set clear boundaries. I think setting boundaries is important and it’s something that people with depression might have a hard time with.

And then there’s my theater friend who is 15 years older than me and wanted to date me. This is also recent. Can’t I just have friends and not date people? Boundaries! Things got awkward, boundaries got blurred. I have to reinforce those boundaries.

My roommate is home now and I have to go hide in my room so that I can have some sense of privacy and not have to deal with being out in the open. I wish I had my own place and didn’t have to share my space with others. I would feel so much more comfortable. Good night.


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