Last night I resisted the urge to write in this blog. I am acutely aware that anyone I encounter in any context can throw ‘John Lacey’ into a search engine, discover this blog and click on the ‘depression’ tag (currently third most frequently used) and discover how crazy I am. But my whole life has been categorised by wearing my heart out on my sleeve and I can’t think of any reason, today, compelling enough to make me stop.
[ad#adsense250]I’ve been really unhappy this last week. It started as a strange blob of indiscriminate feeling, but over time (and with considerable counselling from my friend Mike) the root of these feelings stood out in strong bas relief. A desire for parental love and support and an expectation that I would probably have neither if they knew who I ‘really was.’ But even more than that a feeling that if I didn’t have that that I would probably fall apart, go insane, literally die or some similarly dramatic and unpleasant fate. (Trouble In Mind, a song where the singer considers easing their ‘worried mind’ by laying down on train tracks, has been getting a lot of airplay inside my head lately.) So the plan is basically not to do anything that will lead to that scary confrontation. Only I’m not really doing much of anything at all. It is a holding pattern. It doesn’t go anywhere. And the thing I came to realise this morning is that it doesn’t do anything either. And it is false economy anyway. Putting my life and my happiness on hold isn’t making my parents happy, and it sure as hell isn’t making me happy. I need to rejoin the rhythm and flow of a life, of my life. Maybe they’ll understand. Maybe they won’t. I’m not going to pretend I’m not scared, I am, but it is okay to be scared. But I know I haven’t done anything wrong and that I don’t deserve to feel like this. “My life is waiting for me – can’t you see?!” as Sophie B. Hawkins yelled on Mr. Tugboat Hello. Maybe I’ll have their love and support. Maybe I won’t. But I’m not going to fall apart, I’m not going to die, and I am not going to start visiting train stations to live out Blues lyrics. I’m going to love and support myself. Completely novel, I know. And I’m going to rejoin my life. And frankly I don’t think my life is here, in this place, any more anyway. I need a place of my own, away from here. I need freedom and independence and perspective.
It’s going to be okay. One way or another.
{ 1 trackback }