I'm talking about feeling depressed.
Not clinical depression, which I doubt I have. But those random days when you are just simply not happy. Sometimes, you can't even pinpoint why exactly you feel this way. It could be a culmination of everything. Or nothing in particular.
I was depressed on Sunday. I was six lectures behind on schoolwork, but that wasn't what was sucking the life out of me. I was unhappy and felt inexplicably lonely, despite the fact that both my roommates were at home, and I'd just hung out with some friends at the Krewe du Vieux parade all of Saturday night.
In the midst of all this wallowing misery, the rational core of my brain was furiously analyzing why on earth I was feeling lonely. I am often alone by choice, but typically I revel in the solitude. I was also acutely aware of the fact that I wasn't truly alone. My friends and family were literally only a text message or call away.
I started analyzing all of my faults. I am too proud and too stubborn. I hate taking risks. I have a tendency to be too distant. I run away from affection. I am indecisive. I never initiate anything. I overthink when I should just act. Dwelling on all this was probably not a good idea.
I thought of my two closest friends here, and how I'd seen photos of them on Facebook having fun at a party that I didn't go to because I was at community service all afternoon. The pathetic shriveled nasty thing inside of me wondered if they'd even missed me, and yet, I was too proud to text to say I missed them.
I thought of that time my mom and I were watching Pride and Prejudice on TV, and when we got to the part where Mr. Darcy tells Lizzy he thought Jane had no interest in Mr. Bingley, she turned to me and said, "Don't be like Jane Bennett," and when I asked why she was telling me this, she said, "Your personality is just like hers."
But the truth of the matter is, I'm not like Jane Bennett at all, because I don't even know what I want. My emotions wax and wane between wanting something more and wanting to whisk it all away. And I've been unwilling to admit this to myself aloud, but amidst the miserable gloom I became afflicted with yesterday, I forced myself to confront the ugly and embarrassing truth. That despite being comfortably nestled within my solitude for 23 years, buried under all those layers of rationale and cynicism was the infantile core that still believed that one day I would meet someone whose soul resonated with mine, and that I would feel their presence in my life like a punch in the gut. That I am essentially the ostrich whose head has been stuck in sand because I am afraid. Afraid that taking any step closer means swallowing my pride, shattering whatever fantasy has been preserved in my mental formaldehyde, admitting that I am "lonely" or "settling" or whatever words I've railed against for so long, because even as my head rationalizes everything to pieces, my gut has been silent all this time.
Even though I had a lot of schoolwork to do, I needed to do something. And so, I wrote EP. It wasn't much, a little over 500 words. But it was enough.
Stop running from your problems.
Stop lying to yourself.
Stop trying to hold onto the past.
Stop being scared to make a mistake.
Stop thinking you're not ready.
Stop complaining and feeling sorry for yourself.
Stop trying to make things perfect.
Stop following the path of least resistance.
Today is going to be a great day. I can and I will.
