My manager, Kristy, is 32 with two kids, yet she looks like a 21-year old fox. Don't really know why I had to mention it, except I've always had a slight thing for her.
Anyways, Kristy actually pulls me aside today and tells me, "Joe, you seem so sad, and for no good reason. Just as a bit of advice, do you think girls like sad sacks?" First of all, I know they don't; that's why I'm single right now instead of fucking Shayne. But she goes on...
"You're a good looking guy, funny, sweet, caring, but you're always so down on yourself. The only thing keeping you from having a girlfriend is you. Honestly, I worry about you. You seem like the kind of guy who's going to jump off a bridge!"
I didn't really know how to respond to that. Initially I was flattered. I really like and respect Kristy, and to know she cares about me like that is really sweet. But the more I think about it, the more bothered I am about the whole thing. I'm getting tired of people telling me I'm not myself. I know I'm not myself, I know I'm depressed, I know I have a problem. That's why I spend $30 a session in co-pays for my psychiatrist. And believe it or not, I've considered jumping off a bridge, and it's not something I want to go back to.
Nor is it pleasant to think that these people will forever think of me as this sad, lonely kid. I used to be Jolly, and I really did like that persona. To me, this is a blip, a low period, yet to them, I'm going to be thirty and staring over the abyss.
Truth be told, I worry about that thought. That this will never end, that this overbearing depression is the real me, and that my period of happiness was the blip. And I don't like knowing that for all of my coworkers, I am that permanently depressed person that I'm trying so hard to avoid becoming.
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I also want to talk about her supposedly positive comments, because this is a concept that I'm only just beginning to realize, and I'm struggling with the implications. I'm beginning to reach the conclusion that this is all in my head. All of it, the awkwardness, the depression, the loneliness, all of it is self-perpetuating. None of it is based in anything concrete, it's all just something that reinforces itself. I'm depressed because I'm lonely, I'm lonely because I'm awkward and depressed, and I'm awkward because I'm depressed. It's a vicious cycle, so to speak.
But what does this mean? For one, Rui's "fake it till you make it" comment is accurate. If I put my faith in this theory, then all I need to do is break the cycle. Choose to not let the loneliness and the awkwardness bother me, and I'll stop being depressed, which will lead me to be less awkward and, eventually, less lonely. So over the past few days, I have been trying to do just that. Allow myself to be joyful, not dwell on the negative, take pleasure in the little things, enjoy the company of my coworkers and friends.
And yet it's never that simple, is it?
No, I still find myself longing for Shayne, and having a worse mood overall, and feeling awkward and lonely and depressed.
What shocks me especially is the longing for Shayne. The rest I can handle. In fact, my mood has improved quite a bit, even if it's not where it should be, and my feelings of awkwardness have begun to go away. (At least, I'm beginning to accept them.) But still, at least a few times a day, I find myself thinking of her. Sometimes wistfully, sometimes bemusedly, but sometimes bitterly, and sometimes in mourning. Once a day at least I mourn her, miss her, ache for her presence, her joy, her laugh, her warmth. I tell myself I'll allow a little bit of mourning. But her presence seems to fade so slowly, if at all.
And so I work, trying to keep myself busy. Even as I'm writing this, I begin to feel self-pity, and I take a deep breath, put on a smile, and force myself to recognize that there's nothing wrong with this morally, that I'm not a bad person for feeling this way.
But I worry that this new strategy will be completely ineffective in dealing with Shayne, and I don't know what to do. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm just not done missing her. But I know I can't get better until I stop thinking of her in such a sad way.
Maybe if I got more sleep, and worked less, I might be able to do something? Get something going in my life? Feel better?
I wish.
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