It’s been a rough 48 hours. There has been a lot of heavy emotion, hard conversations and a general sense of needing to get in the car and drive away from life.
I became aware of this depressive period on Tuesday after hanging up from two intense work calls. One working through expectations, heated words and accusations in email and the intended therapeutic “When you said this, I felt this way…” A four-way conversation on Skype where you cannot see someone’s reaction is weird. I immediately went into another call with completely passive/aggressive, are we seriously revisiting these decisions again?! It’s the worst part of being a PM, I think it’s resolved, but no, we need to rehash it 15 more times in two weeks to make absolutely certain and sure it was the right choice. 99% of the time we decide, yes, it’s the best decision (insert face palm, head banging the wall emoji here).
I hung up from that second call and the weight of immense sadness washed over me. I fell into the pit of despair. I was home, another snow day. Thankfully towards the end of the day so I just shut my computer and went for a walk. With music. On repeat. Music helps me through a cycle of feeling so hurt and not understanding where the emotion is coming from — to being absorbed in lyrics — to relating to the artist — to feeling a bit better (even if I haven’t figured out my own emotion). Tuesday it was Muddy Waters by LP. I miss the days of albums with inserts and song lyrics. To sit and read along as the singer moves through their own emotion (thankfully for Genius, I can still enjoy this). Later in the evening I connected with two friends, each helping in different ways to talk through my stuff. Less isolation and loneliness.
Yesterday was also hard. I couldn’t concentrate. Had total Squirrel! going through my head allowing myself to be distracted by less pressing deadlines and emails and avoiding the really important ones. Just going through the motions. I had plans in the evening and kept waffling if I should go or gracefully bow out. I went to PT in the afternoon and did 45 minutes of really hard Pilates therapy. I was shaking by the end. Being physical helps me process emotion and now in hindsight, I see it really bubbled up what I had been processing, and simultaneously avoiding, the last 24 hours. I decided it would be better for me to go to the evening plans and connect with people I knew and could understand or provide comfort.
I would not necessarily say it was a mistake, and at the same time it was.
I showed up, said some hellos, got a drink. All was fine until I started actually talking to people. People who know me on varying levels. Immediately I noticed that the tears wanted to rush out. I was biting the inside of my lip so hard. It’s how I keep tears at bay, sometimes it’s too much. Twice they started welling up in my eyes and thankfully both times I was talking to friends that knew. While they may not know what exactly was going on with me, they knew enough to see I was in pain. I couldn’t even talk. I was started to have anxiety and panic and I knew I needed to leave.
I said my good-byes and while heading out — ran into someone coming in who asked if I was staying. Telling her I was “just OK” and heading out, she asked if she could hug me. I said yes (tears welling up again) and it was SO what I needed!
I barely got out of the bar before the tears came. By the time I got to the car I was sobbing. I needed to just sit there awhile and let it go. I pulled it together enough to drive home. Listening again, on repeat, to LP’s song. I was home before A returned from swim team, just barely. I don’t know why I was trying to hide it from her, pulling it together to be the Strong Mom, there for my kid. Holy hell she is so smart and perceptive — she could see right through me. She asked why I was home so early (I think she was expecting me to return after she was asleep) and I told her I was depressed. She still doesn’t know what to do with that, we’ve only recently started talking about it. She gave me a hug and got ready for bed.
I did too, got ready for bed. Disconnected from my brain and emotion and Facebooked. I watched Samantha Bee. I went to sleep.
Today, I feel better, going through that intensity clears my head. Somewhat. I still haven’t figured out all the pieces that got me to this depression period. Depression by a 1,000 paper cuts seems to be a pattern.
And writing this is helping a lot. I’m about to go into an all-day meeting with another company to talk about inclusive hiring. I’ll be putting my game face on. I expect by the end of the day, the only thing I will want are PJs, comfort food and early sleep.
I’m getting there — and know each person I have touched the last 48 hours has gotten me here. I really appreciate that and continuing to ingrain that I’m not alone and being honest about my mental state only helps get me through it faster. I’m not asking anyone to fix it (is it just me, or do other with depression constantly feel like people try to fix it?) and I don’t know what I’m asking for today.
Perhaps it’s just, yeah Jen that sounds hard, can I give you a hug?
