I Do Feel Guilty For Feeling This Way

I know I’m depressed when I start googling people who aren’t in my life anymore. Nobody in my past life spent as much time at a computer as I still do, so I rarely find much of anything. It’s not a hopeful exercise. Or not hopeful in a positive way anyway. I’ve also run across too many men on their best behavior, which has always unnerved me. My weekly predictions all agreed that I would hear from someone I haven’t heard from in a long time, but that didn’t happen. So I know I shouldn’t believe them when they say that I just entered my birthday month and crazy-good things are going to fall from the sky.

“You may be feeling the empty nest thing, but I’m not.”

I did make an attempt to enjoy a weekend errand by deciding to make my trip to the store early Sunday morning. I actually almost looked forward to it, thinking it would be peaceful and, it being so early, the workers would be friendlier. I wasn’t there five minutes when I heard her talking in her outside voice on her cell phone. Apparently, they were agreeing that a mutual friend was crazy and that neither wanted to attend said friend’s daughter’s birthday party at the end of the month (an obvious emergency conversation that must be had at 7am on a Sunday morning.) I was in produce. She had to have been in the cereal aisle at the very least, but I heard every word. So, of course, I spent the next thirty minutes trying to anticipate where she was going so I could be as far away as possible. That didn’t happen. And I was reminded once again that I will never fit well in this world, because, at my age, I should be able to not let things like this bother me. But, as usual, it stole my entire day and another minute or two to type this.

“You’re going to have to work on that.”

So, I’m in a depressing spot. I want friends and a more active post-single-mother life, but I’m not so good with people, especially those you find in public. Besides, I’m sure I don’t have the most inviting face while I’m expecting the worst.

But what worries me most is that the things I’ve wanted for at least ten years don’t excite me anymore. I don’t know yet what to do about that. I guess the use of the word “yet” is hopeful.

I’ll get there, I suppose. Wherever that may be. I do have faith. And I do have gratitude. I’m very grateful for all our blessings. But too much gratitude and depression don’t mix – they make you feel even less deserving and that the moment is as good as it should be - so I know what I already knew - that the answer is faith.

Eegads, I sound like a country song. How depressing.