dianaschnuth

I had my iPod set to Shuffle earlier this week, while I was at work, when a song came on that made my breath catch in my throat. Amazing how a particular song can bring long-buried memories and feelings back to the surface, fresh and sharp. Guilt, sadness, stupidity, insecurity, a sense of something slipping through my fingers… all those feelings came back, as clear as the day I had listened to that song over and over and over in solitude, punishing myself for what I had done and what I had lost.

At work, I paused for three minutes and twenty seconds, listening, remembering, feeling, wishing I didn’t still like that song so damn much.

So, I got called out by a few people on my woe-is-me post the other day. Some comments were more along the lines of “I’m right with ya,” but others were fine attempts to bring me out of this funk. I also got an e-mail from my friend Kris, who suggested I start by writing a Gratitude List.

I thought that was a fine idea, and decided to make my Gratitude List public. Here goes:

1. I am healthy. I take no prescription meds, I am ambulatory, I am able to take an hour-long brisk walk (or longer), I have full use of all my limbs and all my senses. I can even choose to have a 30-minute kickboxing workout if I so desire, like today.
2. I have a husband who loves me. Aaron and I really are like peas and carrots, and that makes us luckier — and happier — than a lot of spouses. We enjoy many of the same things, like music, and anime, and sci-fi, and computers. He tolerates my negative points, and I can sometimes identify his. 😉
3. We own a home. Our house, although mortgaged, is ours. The roof is only a few years old, the interior stays temperate without excessive A/C, and it’s plenty big for the two of us… and when we finally have a third.
4. I am educated. I have a bachelor’s degree, I can proofread, I know random facts and have even been known to do some computer programming on occasion. I am one of the first members of my family to obtain a college degree (beaten by only a couple of years by my cousin, Misty Dawn, whom I’ve never met).
5. My job is interesting. Somehow, I managed to stumble into database development and administration from my job as a loan flunky. Despite how much I may complain about the speed of bureaucracy in getting me my new title and potential raise, I still enjoy what I do. Hard-core problem-solving is much more fulfilling to me than simple keystrokes to waive a late fee or extend the maturity date of a loan.
6. I have engaging hobbies. Granted, sometimes I have too many hobbies… but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. My mother says I’m a good photographer (which I’m inclined to believe, since she is a portrait photographer by trade). I enjoy researching my ancestry and my family. I design web pages. I podcast. I have many other talents that I should rediscover, as well, like drawing and singing and writing and other creative things.
7. I do have friends. Aaron is my best friend. Through him, I’ve gained other friends, like Kris Fries and Kris Heath and Mark and Garza. Some of my co-workers have nearly become friends, like Heather and James… even though we don’t really hang out. I also have college friends, like Amy (my best friend apart from my husband) and Sheryl and Mary and Beth and Donna and so many others. My high school friends have drifted away, as friends sometimes will, and some old friends have become acquaintances. But I know that there are people out there who care about me and are interested in my life and my well-being, even if I don’t speak to them or see them very often.

Some of these things may seem like pretty standard Count Your Blessings fare. There’s a reason for that, though, and it’s that we should all be grateful for the small things.

After the kickboxing workout I had today, I’m going to be particularly grateful for the shower I’m going to take in about an hour.

I read blogs because I miss having friends to hang out with.

Granted, I enjoy having time to myself in the evenings, but I mislike having no options for socialization at all. That’s why I spend all my time on the computer, trying desperately to feel connected. I can read accounts of my faraway friends and feel like I’m still a part of their lives. Of course, most of my friends have stopped posting regularly to their blogs, and some of them never did in the first place.

Sure, I launch up AIM maybe twice a month, and I see my friends logged in every now and then. But part of me wants *them* to take the initiative and contact *me*, instead of me feeling like I’m interrupting some important conversation they’re probably having with someone else.

I miss living in a neighborhood where I could walk to the local coffeeshop if I were feeling down, and I could get hyped on caffeine and sugar and be in a funky, depressed, hyperalert, counterculture mood all alone. I also miss having Amy around to hang out with. I also miss having the option to just call someone and ask, “What are you doing? Want to come over?” I miss that last year of school, after Amy graduated and I thought I’d be hopelessly antisocial — but, instead, I ended up hanging out with Beth and Donna and Timmay and Sheryl, though rarely in combination.

Is this what being a grown-up is all about? Spending evenings alone, thinking about The Good Old Days™?

If it is… fuck thirty.

I saw a postcard on Postsecret today that looked like it could have been written by one of my friends. It looked like her handwriting (when she’s careful and deliberate), and the subject matter fit her life and her past.

I’ve grown away from her over the years, but I still consider her my friend, even if I wouldn’t be able to have a discussion with her about this sort of thing anymore. And even the thought that she could feel that way about herself… it makes me sad and disappointed.

I hope it isn’t really her secret.

It’s really pathetic on some level that I can allow one person’s morning outburst to ruin my mood for the rest of the day.

So one person in my department isn’t satisfied with the database that James and I have created. So she can be blunt sometimes. That’s no reason for me to let myself get all funky and depressed.

I swung from pissed to defeated to ambivalent and back all day long. Now I’m just vaguely frustrated and generally depressed. Her comments about the inefficiency and stupidity of the database we’ve worked so hard to create really affected me. James, too.

I’d already resigned myself to the fact that this is essentially a special project, not a promotion of any kind. Once we’re done whoring ourselves out to all the other departments — say, around Christmastime — I’m sure we’ll be restored to our old responsibilities, and still have to manage to find time to fix the databases when they go awry.

I’ve been watching TV all evening, which is very uncharacteristic of me. It’s a good thing we don’t have any sweets in the house, or they’d be gone by now. (I’m still trying to think up something creative that doesn’t require baking.) This is yet another case of something small and stupid setting me off into a general depression that no longer has anything to do with the initial cause.

I feel so fragile and unstable sometimes.