Have you noticed how the same things get talked about in your life over and over and over? And for the most part, this is just peach-keen, dandy, and fabuloso. We talk about our kids, our husbands, our jobs, our parents, our friends, pretty much all of our relationships, and then we move onto other things like shoes, movies, books, blogs, etc.
And when I say "we" I'm talking about most people in general.
So, we talk about these things. We go over these things, and although they change in scenario (relationships change, parental issues change, shoe styles change), they are kind of the same thing. Personally, I think it's kind of awesome. It's nice to have the same things to talk about, and when you can find a friend to talk about these same issues with over and over and over, it's even better. But sometimes, I feel sorry for my friends, because my topics are just constantly repeating themselves. And these aren't topics like I've mentioned above (because I can never get enough talking about blogs, TV shows, movies, books, although talking about shoes gets kind of old after a while, so it's probably a good thing I've never lingered on the topic of shoes for very long), these are the topics that include the yucky things about my life that I can't seem to solve.
These two things seem intertwined in my life. I'm not sure if it's because my inability to prioritize/de-stress is causing the Depression, or if it's a result of the Depression, but either way, I talk about both of them a lot. A lot-lot. It's one of those ad-nauseum things, like when people try to blog about politics or gay marriage or male circumcision and everyone "suddenly has something to say!" except in my case, the only person truly talking is me. Because these are my things --this is my deal I have to get through. I have to figure it out. Not necessarily alone, thank goodness, and as you know, dear reader, there are plenty of people who have something to say about Depression or Priorities or both --which is not necessarily a bad thing. But I think after a while, it becomes a not-so-good thing because they would rather not talk about those things anymore. It's kind of like when bad things happen, people react in different ways. Some console, some build-up, some serve, some feed, some run-away, some wait-until-it-blows-over, and others deny, deny, deny. We all react in certain ways to bad situations and to our friends' bad situations, as well we should. We're all different in how we react to anything in general, so why would we react differently to somebody's Depression/Inability To Prioritize?
I'm just sayin'.
But here's the problem with talking about something ad nauseum --it can turn into a personality trait. "She's the Depressed one, you know, and she can't talk about anything else." Of course, this becomes labeling, and I already wrote about that here. That doesn't mean labeling doesn't happen --just that it shouldn't. But regardless of whether it should or should not, my point is that sometimes it can be annoying. I find myself annoying at times. [And let me be clear: I'm talking about MYSELF. I do not find you, dear reader annoying, and if I did, I would tell you. Or at least avoid talking to you. But since I don't avoid anyone that I am aware of (on purpose), then we can safely assume that I am, once again, talking purely about myself, eh? My blog, my life, my selfish posts.] I can sense that I am annoying people, although sometimes I sense that I am actually, in fact, not. Annoying people, that is.
Which is good.
Where was I again? Oh, right. My two topics. So, here I am, facing my two topics which is the story of my life since....ummm...I had children? That doesn't seem very long, but 8 years (holy cow, she's 8 1/2!) can be a long time in a person's life, especially if they've been dealing with something for those 8 years, even if they didn't realize during those full 8 years that they were dealing with something. But so it goes! And my Depression and my Priority Problems are constantly plaguing me.
Do I try to solve it? Oh, sure! That's why I talk about them all the time. In fact, I have two posts in the draft folder talking about Re-Prioritizing my life (again), and they are all introspective and lovely and poetic and quite frankly, I hate them. Yeah, I could get rid of everything in my life at this moment that causes even the slightest bit of stress --and trust you me, I already have gotten rid of some big things --but what would be the point? I'm not only a Depressed, Constantly Prioritizing woman, but I'm also a Go-Getter. A Responsibility-Seeker. A Maybe-This-Won't-Help-Me-In-The-Way-I-Think-It-Will-But-It-Looks-Like-Fun-So-I'll-Do-It! I tend to fill my time up as soon as it's empty. I've tried to fill up empty space with nothing and it doesn't work. So, this is why the Prioritizing comes in; I can't give it all up, but I can re-organize it to work. Maybe I should call it "Organizing" instead of "Prioritizing"? Oh, who am I kidding. It's still a priority thing. I mean, what comes first? and then third? Where do I fit it all in?
I seriously ponder this at times. I'm currently 18 pounds overweight [and yes, I know, I just had my fifth kid and so I'm supposed to be all satisfied by being 100 pounds overweight, and how could I possibly think about weight issues when I'm nursing a baby?! Don't I know that I'm being purely self-absorbed and please won't somebody think of the children??!] and so I think: "Hmmm...I don't want to gain another 20-30 like I did last time; I should start weight watchers again and start exercising every day." But when am I supposed to do this? I used to run 4 miles a day, but how can I do that now? I'm nursing on demand, and so early-morning runs are out; plus Brandon travels a lot. I could just jump on the elliptical machine (and I have), but to find a consistent time has eluded me. Of course, I also know I could just do Pilates, but my 2 years old won't let me be on the floor without jumping on my dough-bag, and the kid won't nap. Granted, I guess I could do it after the kiddos go to bed, but by then, I've hit zombie-status, and the idea of exercising makes me want to hit vomit-status.
See the conundrum?
And this is just the beginning. Because what I realize is that I need to figure out what is important and what is not. Is exercise important? Is it? If it is, then why don't I make it work? Hmmm? What is my problem? But then let's add in the fact that I need a therapist (and psychiatrist) desperately --but not just any therapist; I need one that insurance covers. This is a priority. Of course, it would help if I had time to sit down and actually find one, too. Then the thought of finding a babysitter (Brandon's gone a lot, remember?) in order to go to one, and my brain starts to fall apart. But that doesn't change the fact that I truly need therapy. I do. I want to go, and I have no doubt I'll figure it out and make it work.
Now then let's add to it the responsibilities I've heaped upon myself (Responsibility-Seeker, remember?). Sure, I've whittled my piano students down to 7, but what did I add? Bridal blogging, missionary editing, and a new baby. Add the two callings (another topic I seem to keep bringing up), and you have yourself a woman with stress. However, what do I look like without stress and responsibility? Depressed. Ooh, ooh! But what do I look like with the stress and responsibility? Depressed.
Thus the need for meds and the therapist.
Except I don't have time to find that therapist...
Get the picture? It's a cycle of abuse --abuse of self. I need to change it. I need to make it all work. I have to figure out. This is why I talk about it all the time. To the point of alienating people, including myself. Can you alienate yourself? Probably. It won't stop me from talking about this until I figure it out, though, so if annoys you, dear reader, I apologize. But not really, because I'm labeling myself this time: I'm the Talker.
Or maybe we could just move! That could solve it all...