Why I Suck
- •My depression is pervasive and persistent.It's been with me as long as my legit memories. It's exhausting and consuming and tedious and privileged. I get the luxury of mental health treatment, medication, supportive groups, etc. And yet, the sads persist. It's profane.
- •My patience is increasingly limited.Mostly with loved ones. Definitely in any situation in which I'm overstimulated. Which is pretty much any situation that involves my high energy, sensory seeking six year old.
- •I have white guilt.This often consumes me. What is the appropriate way to interact with other people on the subject of diversity? How do I convey my strong feelings about the continuing disparity in power/privilege? How do I justify my embarrassment and guilt about having that privilege with my gratitude for having it? Is my discomfort with being white, American, cis, abled and middle-class(ish) a good thing? Am I teaching my son the best way? I feel like a totally clueless loser on the whole topic.
- •I have not ever been happy with my body and can't ever imagine being so.I am a full on self-love, body-positive, you are awesome on toast exactly as you are type of gal. I never look at someone and think, holy shit she has sweat pits or jeezy creezy, she's a repulsive mess. But I think that way about myself pretty much all day, errday. Mega hypocrite in the house.
- •I interrupt.Like constantly. I have to metaphorically bite my tongue by thinking about biting my actual tongue to stop the dam from breaking. I think it's because I talk so much in my head, and so rarely out of it, that I'm using to the constant stream of chatter. Or that I am starved for external voice to voice conversation. Or I'm just an asshole because that shit is just rude.
- •I'm awkward.Not in that adorably sweet and tiny oddball tossing off rando non-sequiturs while having high tea with the Duchess (Fergilicious obvs) that charm the socks off all around her. More like the nervous sweats, hiding in the bathroom, avoiding eye contact and especially small talk for fuck's sake. The kind of girl who says, I like cheese to Neil Gaiman at a book signing. Or at least is very concerned she might.
- •I'm lazy.This pairs wonderfully with my depression. Me = why be vertical when you can be horizontal. Why be awake when you can be asleep? Why parent your kid when he has an iPad? Just kidding. Ish. But there are days...Mama said...
- •I adhere strictly to rules I set myself.Take this list for instance. I couldn't let myself off the hook for it despite the whole major depressive episode during the marital uncertainty and rainy season in Portland life status thingamabob. Although a good moral inventory does the ego good.