Shame doesn't belong here.
On no longer wanting to carry guilt that shouldn't belong to me.
I’ve been depressed more often than not this year. After a couple of years of mental stability, I forgot what it felt like to be back at my baseline of depression. Not the deep, sorrowful depression that leads me to ideating and dissociation. But the quiet, melancholic depression cloud that lingers around and makes it hard to do anything but the basic necessities of existing.
This week, I feel annoyed at how much guilt and shame have tried to engulf me for various reasons.
It’s been hard, or nearly impossible, to do the most basic tasks like cooking balanced meals for myself and my child, opting for quick dishes and fast food instead. Often eating way too much or not at all. Or cleaning my home and keeping it clutter-free, resulting in the need to clear walking paths in various rooms of the apartment. I’ve even outsourced my laundry, sending thanks to my employer for making laundry services one of our monthly perks to choose from. And, I’ve skipped more showers than I’m proud to admit, opting for sink baths to remain presentable and not a public biohazard.
When depression gets like this for me, guilt and shame aren’t far behind. Feeling guilty for not being able to “snap out of it” or “push forward.” Shame for being a grown-ass woman who finds it hard to take care of herself in the ways that she should when existing gets to feel like too much.
I no longer want to carry guilt and shame that I feel shouldn’t belong to me. Guilt and shame I shouldn’t be harping on or holding on to because I am truly just trying to get through my days. So, I decided to make a list of things I’ve felt guilt and shame about recently that I am working hard to release.
Hiding away in my home. I have always been a homebody. Even before the pandemic, when I was always on the go, I still found myself back in long periods of isolation at home and away from the world. And when I was ready to reemerge, or just had somewhere to be, I resurfaced. But since the pandemic, I’ve almost become a recluse. Yes, I’m better than I have been over the last few years about getting out, but I’ve found myself declining invites, not reaching out much, opting out of things or places that may bring me joy because the world just feels so unsafe for me. Being depressed, anxious, and paranoid doesn’t make for a great time, especially when people suck.
Agreeing to send my daughter back with her father full time. He made me an offer that, after giving it some real thought, was too good to refuse. I previously wrote about filing for child support after he ignored my request for financial assistance for the upcoming school year for our child. I had so much guilt about having to do that. I felt he left me no choice. Because he feels that he is incapable of being a good father from a distance, and he doesn’t want to pay child support, he offered to take her back full-time for the school year while I work to get back to the DMV. On top of that, he is not making me pay him child support. After making me feel like such a financial burden and failure, this offer initially made me anxious and paranoid. I felt it was a ruse to later say, “See, I am better equipped to care for my daughter because I pay for everything and her mother pays nothing!” I once told a friend that he’d never do anything like that to me, that we’d always be able to figure our shit out. But now? I wouldn’t put it past him. So before I accepted his offer, we discussed the terms of our agreement, and I have it in writing. And it’s getting notarized. Ava will be with him, starting her schooling journey, while I aggressively pay down debt, save, and move back. This decision felt complicated to make because it’s simultaneously heartbreaking, financially responsible, and hopeful.
Not visiting my father often. This is the toughest on the list. And the hardest to expound on. So I’ll just say, under better circumstances, I would be by my father’s side with every moment that I possibly could. Aiding in his recovery. Spending time with him. But these aren’t currently better circumstances.
Getting off my meds. I’ve hit the place again of needing to reevaluate my medication. My current antipsychotic, Lurasidone (Latuda), hasn’t been effective lately. I tried to let it pass, but I need a bit more medicinal help to manage my depression and hypomania than it is currently providing. And because a higher dose isn’t physically possible for me, else I risk akathisia, I need to explore other options. I hate that I am starting over. Especially after being SO certain that we had found the right cocktail. And for a time we did. But this disorder is anything but certain; cyclical, yes, but nothing is consistent or for sure.
Not putting effort into an eventful summer for my daughter. I had SO many things I wanted to do with her this summer. I even swallowed my pride and asked her father for $300 to help towards my summer plans. He agreed, but never sent it, and I wasn’t swallowing my pride again to ask. Especially since he still paid for her swimming lessons. That man has me so anxious about asking him for money that I don’t do so unless I can provide a receipt or some sort of proof for what it’s for. And because I just didn’t have it in me to plan, and purchase, and prepare, and venture out, I just did what I could for and with my daughter. Birthday parties, road trips, park visits, family cookouts. If you ask her, she’ll probably say she had the best summer, and I guess I’m okay with that.
Having not started querying yet. This is one I’m really bummed about. But once a journalism friend and another fellow author told me that a lot of agents take the summer off, I got discouraged from starting to query just yet. I couldn’t be anxious and depressed AND hearing crickets back about my work. That, and the fact that I have proposal fatigue, I haven’t moved the needle as much as I thought I would have by now. I’m still hopeful that if I begin soon, I can find representation before the year is up.
Moving back in with my mother. When my daughter goes back with her father, I am moving back in with my mother, rent-free. This was the original arrangement when I first moved back before my ex decided to switch up the plan. This is also the easiest one not to feel as guilty or shameful about it because my mom has welcomed me with open arms. She has not made me feel like a burden or bother, and we don’t have problems occupying the same space. Some days I feel a way about being in my mid-30s, moving back in with my mother and not paying rent, but then I feel immense gratitude for the privilege of being able to do so.
Updating my resume and activating job alerts. I love my job. I’ve said before, and I’ll tell anyone who will listen, that this is the best job I’ve ever had. I’m working with the best people I’ve ever worked with. And it's the least stressful thing in my life right now. Yes, AND this job is in Ohio, and I took a serious pay cut that’s not going to work for me when I move back to the DMV. To achieve the financial goals I’ve set for myself, I need to make more money. I deserve to make more money. I’m worth more money. I absolutely would consider staying with my current company, but I don’t know how I’d make the case for a $30k raise and being fully remote. So I’m prepared to leave and be thankful for such a wonderful experience and growth opportunity. And while I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, I’m aware that the job market is a shitshow and I want to be prepared when I am ready to enter it again. So I’ve been updating my resume and setting alerts for the positions I want, based remotely or in the DMV
Having partially recovered from over-achieving, looking at this list doesn’t make me feel like a failure, which I’m glad about.
The things on this list are things I’ve done while trying to survive depression, single-parenting, limited financial resources, grieving complicated relationships, and longing for a place I’m excited to return to.
Maybe shame has simply been taking credit for decisions that were actually acts of care.
I’m still depressed.
I’m still tired.
But I’m trying to stop apologizing for surviving.
Currently.
Book Progress — I’m putting myself on a writing and workout schedule starting the third week of August.
Feeling — A bit anxious. About everything.
Reading — Unglued: A Bipolar Love Story x Jeffrey Zuckerman. It is a memoir about a man whose wife has a bipolar breakdown. I’ve rarely gotten to read memoirs from the point of view of the loved ones, and it has definitely been.. an experience.
Anticipating — My daughter’s pre-K graduation. She’s so excited and has been practicing her speeches and singing songs. Her cap, gown, and dress came in, and I can’t believe my baby is growing up.
Contemplating — Where to start.
Affirming — I am surrounded by an abundance of love.
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Decisions that are “simultaneously heartbreaking, financially responsible, and hopeful.” Felt that. It’s like asking if it’s really safe to breathe again.
You know I love you with entire heart but just in case I haven’t reminded you lately… I LOVE YOU!
The things that we often shame ourselves about are the things that we need to do to survive… Or at least not cuss somebody out.
You are making the best decisions for you right now, and there’s absolutely nothing shameful about it.