well gee whiz, i’ve been neglecting this here little blog of mine. and for what? what have i been doing? the usual, really. working, and going to bar method, and eating too many of these amazing new salted butterscotch caramels i discovered at trader joes in my bed. and going to brunch and birthday parties and graduation parties. by all accounts, i’ve been busy. quite busy, actually.
and yet, i’ve been feeling kind of empty lately. unfilled. like there’s a big hole in my heart and i can’t seem to fill it. so i haven’t written, because i didn’t really know what to say. but then the other day, i read this post by kendi, and was beyond inspired – by her courage, and her honesty, and her willingness to write about what hurts. i am by no means a prolific blogger, and probably never will be (especially if my post frequency as of late is any indication), but i like the idea of being able to look back on this little blog in the next few years and see how far i’ve come.
so, back to that emptiness. at first, i chalked it up to my singledom. pathetic, i know. but there’s only so many mornings you can wake up next to your cat and not feel terrible about yourself. on the flip side, there are also many times you can wake up next to someone you couldn’t care less about, and not feel terrible about yourself. i know that i am very, very, lucky. at least, i know this rationally. but sometimes, when i see love all around me, i feel so very alone. and then i get angry at myself for feeling that way. it’s quite the vicious cycle. and while i would give anything to be in a happy relationship, one where i could have a built in taste tester for all my recipes, where i could make a giant stack of pancakes and know someone would eat them, i know that the empty goes a bit deeper than that.
while visiting my family at home the other weekend for mother’s day, my mom and i got in a bit of a tiff about emotional family shit, and it got heated enough that i was tearily staring out the window of the car, watching the lines on the road zoom by so that she wouldn’t see my face. and at that point, she sighed. heavily, loudly. and said, “you know that i think you would be a more balanced person on medication.” and as hurt as i was, and as offended, and as much as part of me felt like, î can’t believe she had the audacity to say that, part of me knew, and knows that she’s right.
i’ve always rejected medication. i’ve never been on any mood-altering drugs; the only thing i take is birth control. while many if not most of my close friends are either on or have been on anti-anxiety or depression medications in the past, i’ve always told myself it wasn’t for me. i like my feelings true and unaltered (though i’m sure most of my close friends would prefer me medicated, let’s be honest). as someone who considers herself a writer, i hate the idea of tainting my words with anything that might alter my mood, that might change what’s in my heart of hearts.
but sometimes i think that maybe my heart of hearts would be just a bit happier with a little bit o’ prozac. elizabeth wurtzel, can you hook a sister up?
i still don’t like the idea of medication. and while i don’t look down on others who take it, to see a psychiatrist feels to me like a failure. it means i haven’t been able to conquer my demons. it means they’ve won. to this, my mother said, “it’s just chemistry!” (spoken like a true doctor) – and maybe she’s right. maybe it is just chemistry, and maybe my chemistry is all wonky. but i’d be lying if i said i didn’t wish i was strong enough to conquer my chemistry without putting anything weird into my body.
they say your body is your temple, but i think your temple is your heart. and sometimes, you have to take steps to heal your heart. lately, my heart’s been unnaturally heavy. and i don’t like it. i don’t feel like myself. i feel ready to cry at a drop of a hat, my anxiety feels cranked up higher than its been in a while. and i think i need a little bit of help. and i’m trying to be okay with needing that help. at some point, i need to forgive myself for my misgivings, for my mistakes. i need to forgive my heart and my mind for what they lack. i can’t change who i am. but i might be able to make who i am just a little bit happier. and really, that’s not such a bad thing.
so, in the spirit of honesty, and for my faraway friends who read this blog and tell me it makes them feel close to me even when we’re separated by hundreds of miles: i’m a little lost right now, but i think i can find my way back.