Anger Issues? Really? We’re going to do that now?

Why am I so bloody angry? And I am. All the time. I am going on this rock climbing outing. In the group comments on the interwebs where the organising happens somebody posted a question about how we will be getting up to the site. So the first thing that popped into my head was “Fucking donkeys. I have never been in a donkey cart before and I feel now is my chance.” Came real close to actually posting that answer too. Then I saw my friend tagged me in a Facebook post and I got really excited about it – because very few people ever do that – until I read the post. She nominated me to say three positive things each day for seven days. So while before something positive was a respite for my brain which goes “What the fuck? What the fuck? WHAT. THE. FUCK!” the rest of the time and during positive moments is sort of like “Oh. OK.”, now I have to think about it and note it in order to post it later on because otherwise I’m that negative arsehole. Which I am but do not necessarily want to keep on being one. So I have to act and pretend being positive. And now this feels like a remedial assignment because I failed being positive enough the rest of the time. Why can’t I be a normal fucking human being?

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La Famiglia

As I am sitting in the living room of my friend’s family’s country house, three generations milling about, it occurs to me that not only the children no longer repulse me but that I am also not against the idea of having any myself. I am also very relaxed. That could also be post-hike wine.
The point is that I am witnessing something that is mystifying to yours truly: a happy, unbroken, non-disfunctional large family. How do those happen? How do I get one of those? In my case, the only way to make it happen is to start my own. I really thought my ex was *the* chance for that to come together. On the drive here my friend and I were listening to an episode of the WTF podcast. Nick Lowe was being interviewed by Marc Maron. Towards the end of the interview, Nick Lowe sung his new track which sparked a flashback to a trip I took with the ex. I could literally feel her fingers on my face.
If nothing else, all this is pushing me to get better so that I too could have a chance at the “happy ever after”.

Support.

Forget those of you who are stumbling upon this humble blog for the first time, please allow me to recap the previous posts: depressed for about two decades, got dumped by the love of my life, went into a total meltdown, blogging anonymously as a way of getting my thoughts in order and using this as outlet, getting (A LOT OF) therapy.

Here’s a thing about being depressed for so long without anyone realising the extent of it: this requires not letting anyone in close enough to see what is going on inside me. That in turn means that there is no support, no cheering section wanting me to keep going. I have been trying to be more open with people in my life. Some of them know the extent of my issues but it will take a lot of good will to bring things to where acquaintances can grow into adult and caring friendships. Last night I had the following texting exchange with one of my improv friends:

Friend: Hi, (me).
F: How have you been since we last talked?
Me: Same. Teetering on the edge type of thing.
F: OkAy.

I had no idea what to say. How do normal adults communicate? What do they say? Where do they learn the right things to say? How do they then parlay that knowledge into forming productive adult relationships?

There are a lot of questions to answer in order for me to grow. My therapist has been advising me to take risks and go to places where people congregate so that I might perchance meet some of them. Except the therapist does not a cheer squad make. There are people who wish me to get better but they are either very busy or do not wish to get involved. I do not blame them. Or perhaps I just do not see them? Yours truly is truly a mess. What I am thankful for is the support of the wonderful WordPress community. You guys and gals have been my cheering section through the most difficult and painful period of my life.

And now I will return my attention to a funky band on stage doing Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.”