With a title as similar as this one is to my most previous entry, this post as the potential of less people actually reading. It’s very possible that people might come to view my blog and quickly glance at the top entry, see the title, and mistakenly think it is the post I wrote on April 11th...
…I’m perfectly fine with that.
Part of me wonders why I’m posting this in the first place, thinking it really doesn’t have a lot of relevance anyways, but the other part of me says I really need to post it because of the number of individuals who have approached me recently, expressing their concern.
While my previous post was in reference to what one knows about his/herself and the rest of the world does not know; this post is about what one does not know about one’s own self, nor does the rest of the world.
An instant message I got today read “I know something is bothering you, and I don't want to be pushy, but people have asked me what's wrong and we're worried about you...if you need anything, I’m here...”
Let’s sum it up in “what’s your deal?” for the sake of making it quicker to type and to say…
…and I can answer it is just as few words, “I don’t know.”
I’ve written recently about this state of being: here. Now, like then, I still am not able to put a finger on exactly what “my deal” is, but I’ve definitely become more aware of it this week, as has everyone else apparently…
…this week a co-worker made me stop working and face her as she asked me what was bothering me. To which I told her nothing, and she responded that I’m not a very good liar. So I tried a different response and said, “I don’t know, but if I figure it out and I think you can help me with it, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
This same co-worker had asked me what was up about a week ago too, and I told her nothing, to which she pretty much left me alone about it that time, but I on the other hand ended up getting frustrated about her having asked me that.
I carefully replayed everything in my head from that day to see if I had done ANYTHING at all rude to her, or complained to her, or taken out any aggression toward her, ANYTHING to give her reason to ask "what my deal was," and my thinking came up empty. With this being the case, it frustrated me that she was wondering what my deal was, if I hadn’t done anything “bad” to her.
Why can’t she just let me be? So, maybe I’m not as talkative or joking lately as I normally am, but I’m not being rude, I’m not refusing to talk when I’m spoken too. I answer questions that I’m asked, I just haven’t been initiating conversation much, but what does that matter?!
This had me frustrated. Why does it matter to people if I’m not “acting myself,” so as long as I’m not being rude to them, not complaining to them, and not refusing to do my part, whether that be work related or answering their questions they ask me or whatever?!
So then my aunt asked me. That same day at work, about a week ago, to which I, of course, replied, “nothing. I’m fine.” But it didn’t end there, as I had hoped, with my genuine sounding response…
This week she came into my room and brought it up again, “Is something bothering you, as you’ve seemed more distant and quieter lately? Are you mad at me? Is everything okay? Is school going okay?”
…my response of course needed to be different this time, so I spiced it up a bit, “No, I’m fine. No, I’m not mad at you. I’ve just been tired lately.”
And had the concerns only come from my co-workers and my aunt, this blog would not be being written right now.
As the instant message from today explained, it’s more of my friends too who have noticed “something.” So, I feel it’s only appropriate that I address these concerns the best I can at this time…
As for "what’s my deal," I wish I only knew…
I’m not one to really talk to people when I’m “dealing with something.” I pride myself in always handling things on my own, and figuring them out for myself. I don’t like to ask for help, typically. And while some are quick to want to talk to others when they are having a rough time, I normally do not go that route. I suppose maybe I do become “distant and quiet” in a sense. I do not necessarily see distance and quietness as a negative thing, as it can simply mean one’s taking pleasure in the idea of being alone and able to think things out on one’s own. The problem for me comes when all that time spent alone and thinking never seems to come to a conclusion. All the thinking is like a massive research project that can’t be concluded because the researcher can’t come to a conclusion.
I think the most frustrating and almost embarrassing part of this all for me is the fact that I just do not know what is “wrong” with me right now. I honestly don’t know what my deal is.
It’s frustrating because it is hard to fix a problem if you don’t know what the problem is in the first place. It’s embarrassing because of a pride issue: I should know what my own deal is, not just because it is me, myself, but because this is what I’m trained to do in my educational field. I should be able to look at the symptoms, give the “problem” a name, and know exactly what I need to do to “be better.” And what should make it even EASIER is the fact that I should know the cause since it is me, myself, rather than having to dig and assess the client to figure it out.
I mean in all my “thinking” lately I’ve been able to see most all the symptoms rather clearly, and my knowledge based on the symptoms points directly to depression…
…lack of pleasure in previously pleasurable activities…
…lack of motivation…
They seem pretty obvious to me as depression symptoms, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what has me depressed. THIS is where I become frustrated. How can I be depressed and not have a reason for it? It’s one thing if I have a history of depression, but I do not. It’s like this feeling has up and come out of no where recently and I have NO CLUE as to what has brought it about.
I realize that you can not always pinpoint depression to a single cause, as we covered that thoroughly in my class this semester, but I should have an inkling as to what could have brought it on--having not ever had a history of depression and all.
So here I sit. Not knowing what my deal is. Everyone is asking. Everyone is concerned. And the best I can do is sustain my dignity through hoping they’ll buy the response of “nothing.”
This week things have seemed to be more frustrating with "my deal..."
Early in the week I had a confusing situation with some friends, and that had me frustrated, confused, and upset.
Wednesday night I had a rough night in finding out for sure that my friend from STL was avoiding me, when I finally gave in and tried calling her once again (after having restrained from trying to communicate with her for a couple months). I decided to use the house phone to attempt to contact her, as it has a different area code from my cell phone, figuring she wouldn’t recognize the number and possibly answer. I was right, as she answered with a “hello” to which I responded her name, paused for the brief period of silence, only to repeat her name once again, to which the return response was a click of the phone. I was hung-up on...
The latter part of this week I lost interest in even talking to people on AIM.
Wednesday night and Thursday I ignored instant messages I received. Many of which I simply just “Xed” them out. I did choose to respond and talk to one person Thursday evening, after staring at their IM for a few minutes and then giving in and writing back. And if it wasn’t you who I wrote back to, please do not take it personally; as it had nothing to do with who you are, it was just that I was not in a talking mood. And actually, if I told you who it was that I decided to talk too, most of you wouldn’t believe me anyways…HA!
Friday wasn’t much different, as I really only IMed with two people that evening as I had to talk to them to tell them I was bailing on going out for the evening with them as I just didn’t really feel up to it. However, I will report that that night I did feel more like "my usual self" as I found myself messing with my cousin at one point—bear hugging him and laughing as I was dragging him across the room—and I gave in and dyed a few Easter eggs with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins too that night. I even cracked a few of my jokes and had them laughing. It was like I was trying to be my old self—though I think it was me given forth the effort in hopes that my aunt would think things were “back to normal” so she wouldn’t ask me again "what my deal" was. HA!
So, what do I say?
Though I don’t really like being asked “what my deal is” since it frustrates me because I, myself, don’t know what my deal is; I do feel blessed in knowing that I am asked and my friends are expressing their concern only because they care—not to frustrate me.
I wish I only knew, so I could not only give my concerned friends a better, and more genuine answer, but also so I could go about “fixing” whatever my deal is, so I could get back to my “normal” self.
In all honestly, this me, is not a me I enjoy being.