Monday, September 20, 2010
My Bell Jar : Depression Confession
I contemplated even writing today given what a dreadful mood I am in. Over the weekend I had imagined myself quite over the sadness and frustration of the last adoption update. I enjoyed some lovely quality time with myself which I will share later this week, but this morning I am back in the bell jar. I realize I'm using this metaphor rather poorly as one can not escape the bell jar, so perhaps I only imagined myself outside of it. The Bell Jar is a book about the mental decline of a woman, and it is to signify a place of no escape where nothing ever changes. While I'm aware adoption is not a mental illness I relate to feeling trapped in a place of no change and no escape. I can not bear the thought of another year or two for a referral. I simply can't.
My deepest impulse is to run away. I want to escape all of this. I wish for anonymity. I don't want to be around anything that reminds me of this journey. My family, my friends, my house, this blog, myself. In my hardest moments I wish to erase the last 6 years from my life. I find it tedious to continue answering questions about our adoption, I find it extraordinarily painful to graciously congratulate others on their pregnancies. I'm rather exhausted with it all and I am painfully aware of it's continued existence in my life. I feel like this process has spread like mold and is infecting all aspects of it most importantly myself. I feel dirty with the weight of uncertainty. I also feel like a fool. I have trusted so much in this process and I feel ridiculous with the degree in which I have handed over my hopes and dreams to unstable bureaucracy.
The worst part is I don't wish to be handed hope. Nor do I wish to be given the same pessimism I am currently exhibiting. There is nothing I wish to hear. Nothing. How drab is that? I'm sitting here miserable,in front of a roaring fire, beside a sleeping cat, and I feel completely uninspired to be talked out of this melancholy, or even to be joined in my misery. That is the conundrum of my bell jar I suppose.
They say time heals all wounds, but time is my wound.
I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I’d never seen before in my life. ~ The Bell Jar