I'm going to admit something almost sacrilegious in the area where I live...I never really liked Oprah.
After the fun days of the 80s where she did makeovers and scandalous "who's the daddy" shows, she started getting all high and mighty and "empowering." Bleh. Boooring.
Besides, I was convinced that she was just one of those hippy, crazy people all "in touch" with themselves and wanted to be just like the Dali Lama and that REAL, NORMAL people were not like that. NORMAL people dealt with life and went to work and had fun on the weekends and weren’t too concerned with the state of their being. Everyone else is FINE; it is just Oprah who was unhappy with herself.
Here's the thing. She may have been a little bit right. (I suppose that is why she was the most powerful woman in entertainment for so many years.) There is something to be said for knowing who you are and what affects you. And why you are feeling the way you are feeling.
I hate to admit when I am wrong. Especially years later. So this pains me.
Here is my latest revelation. I was soooo excited to get the house picked up the other day. I felt ambitious...so much so that I cleaned out not one, but TWO junk drawers yesterday! (only one to go!) I began to see the sense in doing one thing at a time… slowly but surely, you will accomplish your goal. (All those therapists and professional organizers just might know a thing or two after all.)
I guess I was experiencing this little thing called adrenaline, the high of accomplishing something. I had heard other people talk about it, and wondered why I never really felt like that. I can sort of achieve that feeling with about 4 Bud Lights, but never really any other time. (Except snow skiing, but it has been so long, I forget what that is like.) The feeling of accomplishment felt so…good!
Here is the problem with adrenaline. You come down off of the high. (Yeah, duh right?) And I think that is what I am going through right now. Last night, I was wandering my house, and decided I was in desperate need of Dairy Queen. I finally succumbed to the fact that 1) they do not deliver and 2) I was not going to get in the car to satisfy my dying wish of a hot fudge sundae. So I went to bed. All sulky-like.
I sighed heavily and closed my eyes and went to sleep, while Workaholic and Sam snuggled next to me. Yep, I was so sullen that I didn’t want to fight with her about bedtime. It was too late, and I really just wanted to feel sorry for myself. And I also didn't want to snuggle her. Even though she had just brushed her teeth, she still had bad breath. Who doesn't want to snuggle with their kid??
And when Workaholic’s alarm went off at 6am? Did I open my eyes, excited for another day, another chance to get a closet cleaned out or for the Purdue men’s basketball game tonight where I have FLOOR SEATS? No. I shut my eyes and wished for 12 more hours of sleep. (I am NOT a morning person.)
I sit here at work and wish there was a bubble over my desk. I hear other conversations going on around me and I wish for silence. Even the typing of someone else’s keyboard grates my nerves. I wish I could hang a “Quarantined” sign by my nameplate.
I now recognize this feeling as the loss of the feel good hormones. I know that with depression you have good days and bad days. This is not a good day. Little things that don’t go my way are devastating. For the first time since I started my new medication, I actually feel like I could cry. For absolutely no good reason.
A day like today is what I have such a hard time keeping a therapist. I can’t explain WHY I feel the way I do. I just FEEL. (But if I was Oprah, I bet I would know why.) Oftentimes, people will stand on the outside of my life, looking in, and ask me what do I have to be depressed about. That is just it…there is no reason. I could have everything my heart ever desired, and I would still feel this way. It just is the way it is. That is the struggle. No matter how green the grass is on the other side, there is always a cloud in the sky. Getting rid of that cloud is my new mission. I don’t want to live with a shadow overcastting my every day, or every other day. I don’t want to live just for the adrenaline. I want to be me, free of self-doubt and anger and be the person that I often pretend to be. Just like Oprah would want.