An Angela and Anna exchange. What is this? Look here.

Anna asks:

Dear Angela,

I wrote this whole long post today about my weekend. And I was fine for the weekend. Really. Not up or down, not too distant or too scope creepy. But now I have just floated away. And the only post I could write was one that recounted things without adding any depth or texture. Those features are gone.

Its like I am visiting my own life.

Oliver learned to text on his “phone” which is an old iPhone and he is so thrilled. THRILLED. He says to me, “for now I will text just to our immediate family, but who knows?”

From where I am parked on the green chair his texts float in. “I dove you.” “This is so fun.” “I dove dove dove you.” I dove him back.

Its like when he was a tiny baby and I called him “the baby.” He wasn’t Oliver. And now he is, and I KNOW him and I LOVE him, but it is like I am recounting my love through triple paned glass.

Steve is leaving and I feel sad. I actually do feel sad. Mostly for my boys who will have a parent puppet instead of a parent. Can they tell? Can anyone tell?

Its something about how close the person is to their own eyeballs. Like, can I look in and see them? Or are the cataracts of life making them fuzzy back there?

I’m fuzzy.

How to I come into focus?

Angela Answers:

Oh, Anna…

I’m sad for you.  Because I empathize.  But I haven’t felt that fuzzy feeling since having kids (not because becoming a Mom was my panacea, just because the drugs work and I love therapy), so I think your fuzziness is even worse than the fuzziness I’ve experienced.

Can your kids tell?  Probably.  Do they take it personally?  I don’t think so.  But they are astute enough to worry about you.

This “fuzziness” of which you speak is, presumably, depression (der – I know you know that) and so I have to advise that it be dealt with in a very direct and pro-active manner.  Have you done all that you can do in the way of seeking treatment, objectively?  Do you currently see a therapist?  Is your medication dosage correct?  Is it possible that some part of you has to feel depressed in order to know who you are at this point?  You’ll still be you – a better version of you – if you lose the fuzzy.

Listen, I give you props for sitting on that green chair and receiving Oliver’s texts with love.  That’s all he needed you to do in those moments.  When you’re feeling that love for you kids, tell them – in your own terms, in the (cough) “love language” that you use – and they will get what they need most from their Mom.

As for you getting what you need in order to come into focus, well, you’re a very intelligent woman.  Come out from behind the curtain of laziness and self-pity, my friend, and claim the fucking happiness that can be yours!  Do the emotional work.  Do the physical work.  Do whatever it takes – for your family and for yourself.  YOU DO NOT HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY!  You will still be snarky and clever and opinionated and brilliant when you are not depressed.

The following two tabs change content below.
Anna Rosenblum Palmer is a freelance writer based in Denver, CO. She writes about sex, parenting, cat pee, bi-polar disorder and the NFL; all things inextricably intertwined with her mental health. In her free time she teaches her boys creative swear words, seeks the last missing puzzle piece and thinks deeply about how she is not exercising. Her writing can be found on Babble, Parent.co, Great Moments in Parenting, Ravishly, Good Men Project, Sammiches and Psych Meds, Playpen, Crazy Good Parent, and YourTango. She also does a fair amount of navel gazing on her own blog at annarosenblumpalmer.com.

Latest posts by Anna Palmer (see all)