This is the resolution that I feel the most blocked about, and I think it’s also the most urgent. The worst habit I have as a depressed person is that I tend to sometimes feel invisible, even sometimes nonexistent. This feeling makes me panic, because, like I said yesterday, I love life. I prefer existing. In the midst of the invisible-panic feeling, I do things like send regrettable emails or just cry.
One thing that contributes to this feeling is the fear of not being read. Not on The Serotonin Factory, just in general. I’ve been a poet for about 10 years now, but I’ve never had a stronger urge to be read than I have this year. (It occurs to me that this may be related to the biological clock tide I’ve also been getting pulled by…)
On days when I’m sitting peacefully in my writing chair or somewhere air-conditioned, I feel so foolish about the feeling-invisible times. I’m overwhelmed about how lucky I am to have a loving spouse, a close-knit family, and generous friends all over the place. I know the only thing I can do to get read is submit, and I’m happy when I do.
But the sadness, the feeling of unworthiness, is really hard to fight sometimes. I’m determined, though, so here’s a list:
Partial List of Things that Make me Feel Loved:
*Amy always takes such good care of us.
*The poems that have been accepted.
*My family, close-knit and mostly functional since 2001.
*Sally and Arlo, very loyal cats.
*The way students light up when the poems start coming.
*My Slam co-host Sherod who, at my last party, made everyone go around in a circle and say how they met me. Also he always says, “you’re not fat, you’re thick.” That is a good friend.
*My garden out back—since the weather broke, some of the flowering plants have started to bounce back.
*Whatever that warmth is that comes up in my belly when I’m meditating, doing yoga, or talking to someone I love.
*My best friends the books, notebooks, and pens.
*My body that generally does what I ask it to.
*Friends who won’t let me be a wallflower.
*When poets visit.
*Everyone who ever reads me. (That includes status updates.)
*The way the library just sits there having books.
*Anyone who sings anything.
*Podcasts that trick my brain into thinking someone’s talking to me.
*Everyone who’s nice enough to make some art.
It is a struggle to feel worthy, definitely. It requires going outside one's mind. But we're addicted to the mind. I know, I certainly am... sigh.
ReplyDeleteLOVE your introspection! You're awesome!
Thanks!
ReplyDeleteI spent the last two years out in the world doing good, I guess that could be considered "outside the mind." When I returned to introspection, I started to heal. (I think.) (I hope.)
I guess it's just a matter of balancing the inside and outside worlds, especially for a half-extrovert like me. :)