Me

I was talking to my Dad yesterday, and I told him that I’m starting to not like writing anymore, that it doesn’t feel good and I don’t feel like I have any good ideas anymore. He suggested I take a break and not push myself to write every day unless I really feel like it. That sounds reasonable. But nothing really feels good right now and I don’t want writing to become another entry on a long list of things I no longer feel like doing and stop. Reading the newspaper. Doing the crossword. Posting on Facebook. Having any libido. Wanting to go out at night. Wanting to look pretty. Wanting to be around other people. You name it.

Dr. Z says that’s my depression talking. I don’t know what to do other than listen to it, and it’s pretty boring. It makes books I read seem pointless and food taste bad and everything I do seem pathetic and shitty and pointless.

I don’t feel very much in touch with Sarah right now. Yesterday I was thinking that if Sarah were to come home, she would be bewildered. She would say “Where is my beautiful mommy?” (She always thought I was beautiful). “Where is the mommy who dressed nicely, bought me pretty clothes, laughed, sang, went places all the time, ate healthy food, and was fun to be with? Who cooked and took care of me? Who is this not-fun, sad, schlumpy frumpy Mommy?”

I miss that person too, and I would like to get her back. I can’t quite think of a plan right now to get back on track. I want to. I really want to. I want my daughter to recognize her mother. I want to feel good again.

I feel like I may have transitioned from asking “Where is Sarah” to asking “Where is me?” Where can I find myself? How can I find myself? I wish I knew.