Over the ledge

December 30, 2008

For me it manifests itself in a fog. My brain feels full, no matter what time of day it is. In class, answers I just read from the book are just out of my reach. I can see them as material objects just floating beyond the grasp of my fingertips.

I’m irritable and distracted. I can’t concentrate on simple tasks. I interupt myself from doing my job to surf the internet, loading and reloading Google news again and again. I keep the TV on to distract me from the silence, from going and doing the things I need to go do.

I constantly feel I’m walking on the edge of a cliff. Down below is somewhere dark I don’t want to go. I have fought with myself for months now about that ledge. When I slip up and I feel myself falling, I come completely undone. I cry, I choke back on tears, I totally shut down. Getting the words out to express how I feel seems like such a monumental task, so often I simply don’t say anything. When G asks what’s wrong or when I try and explain why I’m crying, nothing comes out. I become a mute. Sometimes it’s easier that way. But I know it’s not the right thing to do.

I know the path to treatment lies in finding a therapist, getting help, accepting medication if my mental health professional feels that is the best path for me. As I am a rational person, I can rationally tell you I won’t feel like this forever, that one day I may be “okay” again. That one day I will feel like the responsible, mature married woman I am, somewhere deep down.

But right now, I don’t feel okay. I don’t feel like everything is fine. I see a long, long black tunnel stretched out in front of me with no end in sight. It’s a tunnel that leads into next year and the year after that and five years down the road. Someone asked me what I see myself doing in five years. I didn’t tell them this, but I thought “I see myself hurting. Still hurting.” I don’t know how to climb out of this hole.

I don’t know how to make myself feel better.


1. I am a capable baby person. I can change diapers, change clothes, give bathes, burp, feed, and raspberry babies with the best of them. This shouldn’t surprise me, as I love babies. But it does shock me how easily it comes to me.

2. I am what I call a “oooh shiny!” buyer. I like new houses that need little to no work with pretty appliances and nice floors. I am not a do-it-yourselfer, even if I tried.

3. I am better at video games than I give myself credit for.

4. I talk in my sleep and am a huge bed hog. I didn’t know this until I got married. Poor G.


August 1, 2008

G bought a small condo several years before we met. It was the perfect size for him, but when I moved in a few years ago, it quickly became a tight squeeze. We’re on the end – but have loud upstairs neighbors. Neither one of us felt comfortable buying and/or selling property before we were married, so we held off putting our condo on the market until this summer.

When we got back from our honeymoon, we got right to work. We cleaned, we painted, we scrubbed. After 10 days of reading chick lit, drinking mojitos, and going for a daily swim, we went to working full time and getting home to another 4-5 hours of work to complete.

We went on the market this past Wednesday. G told me going into this that selling and/or buying a house is stressful. He wasn’t kidding. Much like everywhere else, where we live the real estate market is not so good. It’s not as bad as it has been in the past and it’s not as bad as it is other places in the country, but it’s definitely in a down market. The good news is that out of four units on the market, two have sold (and it appears before ours went on the market). The bad news is that we still don’t have a buyer.

G keeps telling me that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Someday, somehow, someone will buy our house. And he believes that someday is going to be soon. The thing is, I’ve never been very good at predicting what’s going to happen, and I’ve especially never been good at believing that good things will actually happen. I’m not an eternal pessimist by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m just not very good at having faith. Job interviews, graduate school applications, what have you not, until I have the acceptance letter in my hand I’ll believe I’m not getting it. And in real estate, that’s not a good attitude to have. I’m afraid I’m jinxing myself by not having faith our house will sell. I fear financial ruin as I read newspaper articles about the downturn in the market. I comfort myself that I will never be a real estate agent because my god, man, how can you do it?

Ultimately, everything will work out. It has to. But until it does, I’ll worry. I’ll worry we should have painted neutral colors. I’ll worry our cats distract potential buyers. I’ll worry our neighbors are too loud and will always prevent someone from buying our unit. I’ll worry we’ll have to pour more money that we don’t have and time we don’t want to give in order to make a meager sale. I’ll worry worry worry worry.

I know I just need to take a chill pill, but at the moment it’s hard to swallow.


June 10, 2008

You’re feeling: a bit sluggish. I don’t really want to do much today.

To your left: My incredibly fashionable, slightly scatterbrained Korean boss.

On your mind: Bills, leaving on vacation, dinner at a fancy restaurant tomorrow night, how sweet little baby niece A smells, how I hate the gray, rainy weather

Last meal: Starbucks bottled frappucino and corn flakes

You sometimes find it hard to: Ask rather than tell.

The weather: Gray. Rainy. Cold. Windy.

Something you have a collection of: socks missing their partner, penguins, postcards from every trip I’ve taken in the past 5 years, Bed Bath & Beyond 20% off coupons

A smell that cheers you up: Lilacs.

A smell that can ruin your mood:

How long since you last shaved: Legs: three days Arms: one day

The current state of your hair: Curly, a little disheveled, and needs washing.

The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): If my printer doesn’t count, probably my basket of folders or my inbox.

Your skill with chopsticks: Awesome. I can even cut with chopsticks.

Which section you head for first in a bookstore: Travel memoirs, then European travel, then notebooks, then science fiction, followed by regular fiction.

Something you’re craving: Mango sorbet, Friday afternoon, finishing my book

Your general thoughts on the presidential race: I think Barack Obama will win and I also think he will not pick Hillary Clinton as his running mate. I think John McCain isn’t getting the full support of the Republican party and partly acts like it’s already over. I also think Barack Obama has handlers most people don’t know about who talked him into running and I think his wife is going to be a secret weapon.

How many times have you been hospitalized this year: None.

Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: My bedroom with our down comforter with the deck door open and the rain falling.

You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good: Lawyer.

Something that freaks you out a little: I’m married. And an “adult.”

Something you’ve eaten too much of lately: Cake.

You have never: been to Antarctica or Australia.

You never want to: drown. What a horrible way to go.

Last night:

10:30 PM: Itchy eyes. Contacts hurt. OW.

10:35: Take contacts out. Aww. Relief.

10:40: While watching TV with G, realize I can’t see the score of the Mariner’s game being replayed.

10:45: Go online to 1-800-CONTACTS to maybe order contact lenses.

10:47: Complete order.

11:10: Go to bed.


8:30 AM: Fax prescription to 1-800 number.

12:30 PM: Get e-mail saying contacts have shipped.

12:31 PM: Express love for the internet. Think about starting a blog.