Hallway to Nowhere

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  • What Do I Want?-The Depression Question.

    I should be feeling good right now. I had two successful visits. (One I didn’t know how it would go. But it went smoothly. And I handled having a house guest in my space much better than I thought I would. ) And seeing T is always great. We plot our plans for world domination and our escape route, should the zombie apocalypse occur. The same things we were doing back in college, minus the hoagies from that family-owned shop whose name I can’t recall. This time I cooked: socca with Gazan smashed avocado spread with zhug and a fig, olive, and walnut tapenade for starters; a minted jeweled cold lentil salad for the main course with a side of sliced tomato drizzled with 18- yr old balsamic, and for dessert, an assortment: crack cookies, GF coconut bites with choc dips, and choc covered grapes. She loved everything! Then she took me to the evil empire (Walmart version, not Steve Smith’s version) and bought me a new vacuum cleaner for my bday! It’s a good thing I pay attention to shelf talkers, b/c it rang up for 20.00 more than advertised. I insisted that we go get this rectified. 20.00 is 20.00.  and they did fix it without demur. Just took a bit of waiting in line. I do things like this. She said she wouldn’t have.

    During these visits, I was aware of a hollowness. I feel….broken. I have a rich life: friends, a valued place in the community; a job (s); a beloved companion. BUT. I hurt. I am bleeding  out emotionally. I don’t WANT to be. I fight this. I take walks in nature (without headphones, with Miss P.) I practice mindfulness and meditate. I take as good care of myself as I can. And yet. And yet. This is there. This is constant. What do I want? I’m afraid. I’m at that point of depression where if someone put two vials in front of me, one that would make me NOT EXIST and one that would just REMOVE THE DEPRESSION? Pretty sure I’d choose the NOT EXIST option.

  • Letter To R

    I doubt this will ever be sent to OR read by R. Here goes:

    I’m sorry if I’ve sounded harsh, judgmental, or dismissive of your choice of graduate school. I do not mean to be. In previous times, your choice of attending a divinity school over law school would not trouble me as much. But these are different days than even five years ago. You are 28. You are LGBTQ. These two things are worth noting, in my opinion. Your age makes you a bit older, which is good but also gives you a time factor. You might feel right now that you have all the time in the world to explore your options and even change your mind. The dire straits forced upon the world by the climate crisis will directly impact your generation front and center, though all of us on the planet will have to reckon with it. There is an urgency to everything that was lacking in my day. We are running out of time for everything. We do not have the same luxury to make false starts.

    Second. You are LGBTQ. You have said several times that you don’t intend to become a minister but intend to use this as a tool to continue your work in community organizing and held up William Barbour as an example. But William Barbour is able to be so effective partly b/c his organizing grows out of his deep and abiding religious faith, as well as his wonderful humanity. As an LGBTQ individual, I fear that you will struggle to find a place in a community-any community-once you receive your M.Div. It is NOT getting easier for LGBTQ individuals in this country right now in ANY respect but most especially so vis-a-vis the faith community in many Christian denominations. If I  had seen a calling  to become a minister, I would feel less trepidation at what potentially awaits you.  I fear for your future, though. It will a hard road, I predict. The William Barbours and MLKs of the world have it very difficult when they are hetero and have a strong faith. What vilification awaits you?

    But perhaps I will be wrong. You might have a conviction I know not of already. OR you might have your own personal “Damascus road” experience that will give you strength, faith, and a resounding voice to speak such truth to power that that those who would castigate you (impiously) in the name of their god would at the very least hear you. I hope that I am. But whatever befalls you, I wish you the best . I  will follow your progress. You are one of your generation’s voices. I’m happy I got to know you for a bit. I hope you succeed in your endeavors.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

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  • Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Here I Am Again In A Black Hole

    Everything should be going well, right? I just had a birthday celebration last night. Friends took me out. I had a room full of people singing HAPPY BIRTHDAY to me. Good food, well wishes, and great company. Even decent music ( Jack sees to that). I went to the FM this morning, caught the haps and the local buzz, bought my minimum-required produce, and hung out for a bit.  My whippet is caught up on stuff til next month. I’m getting ready for company coming from out of town this week.

    AND I’m sitting here feeling so desperate. I saw my Pdoc last week. I gave him my manifesto (Standing On The Edge Of A Cliff). I have friends who have other devastating diseases, including cancer. This is comparable, except that it is invisible. (Maybe, Idk.) I don’t talk about how I do most activities while dragging my depression around like a weight around on my back. Or while having the constant refrain of suicidal thoughts playing in the background. If you’ve not ever attempted to act like you’re living a normal life while that’s going on, let me tell you, it’s not fucking easy.  Is it any wonder I’m behind on some APEC and FOL assignments? I’m a little distracted right now, sorry.

    That I manage to do gross ADLS right now is pretty impressive, never mind that I’m cooking for friends, going to meetings, and making presentations.  When I walk to the library, what stops me from “accidentally” standing in front of a car is the thought that I could hurt someone else. Or if I had a train-involved death, that could also traumatize an innocent bystander. All I want is to disappear and cause as little fuss as possible for those around me. I don’t hate myself or anything like that. I was trying to explain this to the Pdoc. I feel a lot of….overwhelming emotional pain and grief right now. IT HURTS to exist. And I’m tired. So tired. I’ve been fighting depression and various physical things ALL OF MY LIFE. (Part of the deal when you are so premature, I know. But still.)