Twelve

I don't know if what I have is considered depression or not. Is there a definite line between depression, or being in a bad mood, or just feeling blue, or being lonely or unhappy, or "going through a spell"? Or are the borders blurred? I've never once considered suicide, have never even thought about it. I've never thought about hurting myself or anyone else, I don't fantasize about jumping off a bridge or driving my car into the oncoming lane. I don't sit around my house crying. I am definitely not trying to escape life, I am trying to feel better emotionally and find my place in the world. A is the only person who knows the depths of my unhappiness, and I'm not sure that even he knows just how deeply those feelings run. One thing I did used to love, was my job, and for the first time in my career I really DID love my job and I felt like I belonged and I felt like this was the place I was always meant to be, the place I had been searching for my entire working life. My job was nothing spectacular, my college degree was in computer programming (from back in the 1980's), and my job was a simple one, in a simple office, and I was only a data entry operator. I was there for nearly a decade, and I was THE person in the office to come to for an answer, for information, for assistance, for advice. I scored the highest every year on evaluations, and I got the biggest raises each year. I was excellent at my job, and took a great deal of pride in it, and in fact I was quite arrogant about it. The position was originally three people doing the work, then two, then just me because one by one I absorbed their work and they were let go. I was that good, that quick, that accurate. I knew everything about the system, I knew everyone in all the departments, and if I didn't know the answer I was not shy about going to whatever lengths I had to in order to get a response. But, that's gone now, and am I bitter? Has it led to this angry, overwhelming sense of nothingness I feel about myself now? I'm sure it has. But I can't be bitter, I have no right to feel so indignant, because I left my job willingly, to support A's promotion at his company, where he is now the director, and soon in line for vice president. He could have turned the promotion down, if I'd said no don't take it, I want to stay here at my job, in this town, in our home. But I said go for it, I'll give up my job, we'll sell this house, I'll go wherever you have to go. And so here I am, unemployed since last year, alone in a beautiful house, a kept princess if you will, a lady of leisure- while A goes off to his career every day, happy, fulfilled, a needed man with a mission, with goals, with projects, with co-workers. I have nothing of that anymore, and every day my sense of loss gets worse. I know there are millions of people in this country without a job, and most of them had their jobs taken away from them without warning, against their will. They teeter on the brink of poverty, of losing it all, of their family's destruction. I gave up a job that was secure, that fulfilled me, that gave me a purpose and friendships and praise from others, that gave me my own money to spend as I wished because A has always paid all the bills from his salary. I gave it up, and I don't have to worry about a financial crisis, or losing health insurance, or my house going into foreclosure. Sure, something drastic could happen, and A could lose his job suddenly, and he tells me all the time not to worry about it because if it happens, it happens, and it will be out of our control. But we won't fall, and we won't fail. I know this. Although I think of myself as sullen, antisocial, cynical, sad, lazy, judgmental, hateful, angry, conceited- for some reason none of that comes across to the outside world. Friends would say I am cheerful, sweet, funny, happy, helpful, loyal, smart, pretty, lucky, stylish, clever, industrious. People at work would always say to me- you are always smiling and laughing, you are always so chipper. Does that mean they don't really know me? Or is THAT the real me, and I just see myself differently with my fucked up perception? Am I a big fake, a phony- and if so, which is the real me, and which is the impostor? I can't even answer that. Even A, knowing that I feel unhappy, will tell me I'm loving and sexy and intelligent and thoughtful- when all I feel like is a dried up dog turd. My best friend of many years, the one who knows all my dirty laundry, thinks I'm the nicest and funniest and warmest, most caring, confident person she's ever met. She knew me back when I was married to X, and she's been with me all through my life with A. And she loves me and thinks I'm charming, witty, comforting, unerringly delightful, pleasant, and a gem to be around. Why does everyone I know, think of me this way? Am I that good of an actress? Do I have everyone fooled? Or am I fooling myself? Am I trying to convince myself I am miserable and depressed, to give myself license to be lazy, or selfish, or unproductive? I don't know, but it bugs me. I go through that with A, and I tell him thanks for being so nice to me, and he responds that he is not a nice person, when I know he is the most generous and kind man in the world. So, maybe we all have misconceptions about ourselves, maybe we are not as horrible as we think we are, maybe we are all a little too hard on ourselves. I don't know. I do know that I feel insignificant and lost without a job, even though financially I don't "have" to work. Emotionally I feel as though I must. Without a job, a career, I don't know how to define myself, my day, my life. And what do you do deary? Oh, nothing. All day, nothing. Every day, every week, every month, nothing. Is this black hole I've been in for so long now, because I don't have a job to go to every day, because I don't have a meaningful purpose in life? A would say my purpose in life is to be happy. That may be a goal, but that is not a purpose. I want a job, but we live in the middle of the countryside, and the nearest town is small and redneck and full of fast food places and gas stations and Wal-Mart, and even those places aren't hiring right now. As soon as we moved here, I put my resume in with staffing agency after staffing agency, hoping to find something in the much large metropolis thirty minutes up the road. I got smiles, and impressed nods of the head, and assurances that if the economy was better they could place me right now in a job, but right now they had nothing to offer me. Lots of people out there need jobs, to support families, to save their homes from going back to the bank, to keep their car from getting repossessed. I don't want to take a job away from someone like that, someone who HAS to have it, to survive, to avoid homelessness. But I want to start waking up in the morning, with more on my schedule than making A a pot of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal, and packing his lunch for him so he can drive off towards the big city and enjoy his purpose. Where is my purpose? I want one again.