Monday, October 03, 2011

A Sum of Parts

I was REALLY depressed yesterday. It was partly physical (won't go into that) but also a sense of overwhelm. I'm moving from a place I dearly love. And that entails emotional closure, but also all the realistic aspects. I have to get the carpets cleaned. I have to find moving boxes. I have to rent a truck. Etc.

And then there's the fact that I once again have my place to myself. And I should rejoice in this. No more worrying about coming home. No more forcing pleasant conversation when I have places to be and things to do. But there is a sense of isolation.

Last night, I said to Good Buddy, "You're all I have." And at times I feel that is true.

But the reality is, it is not. A dear friend called me last night, not for advice but just to bitch. To hear me tell her - and it's true - that she is a wonderful mother and an amazing person. One of the most wonderful person in this existence is worried about me being comfortable in her "former" space. Girlfriend is moving overseas and she's thinking about me! I have a myriad of people who know me and like me, however "superficial" our friendship might be. I have much to be thankful for.

So, in a way, I think this depression is about the uprooting of a life. All of the little things - the ppl at the convenience store who started to carry pineapple juice just for me. The ppl at my breakfast shop who have actually named a breakfast sandwich after me. The imprint I've made with local organizations. Hell, I even have "Farmers' Market" friends who share their stories and listen to mine. And I don't even know their names!

All of this is part of my emotional state. But I also need to realize that I've started over before. And I still carry memories of the good parts I've left behind. One ex referred to the waking of morning birds as "The Dawn Chorus." Another ex loved to cuddle just after waking. "So cozy," he'd say. A friend was amused that I put jelly on one side of a bagel and butter on the other. Another friend knows how much I detest olives and will stress this point at restaurants on my behalf.

I am losing a lot with this move. But I know I will carry fantastic memories with me. As things end - sadly or needfully - we still have our memories. And those are precious. Those are the things to hang onto. When I start to cry, when I'm feeling so alone, these are the things I should remember.