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enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Sigh. Long day.

So I'm kind of confused by myself. I'm not sure if I'm borderline depressed, or if I'm just stupid and fixated on pointless things. I tend to bounce like a yo-yo. I can fall into a pit of misery (read: yesterday and today), but then now I'm starting to feel very separate and clinical about the whole thing and the feelings are starting to fade.

Well, perhaps not fade. But I don't feel so deeply sad anymore.

I'm wondering, as I so often do, if there is an underlying health problem that is causing this. Or is it anxiety? Or is it simply that I'm so lonely and tired of going it alone? It is tough sometimes to realize that my mother doesn't love me, my father is long-dead, and there's no hope that either will change.

I'm finding it difficult to know.

Or is it, finally, that I'm a right-brain, teacher-y person who made all of the wrong moves in life in an unsuccessful attempt to "make" her parents love her once and for all, and who now is trapped in the ultimate left-brain environment in which she feels as if the walls are closing in on her.

I was reading the meme that Anna and others did today, listing ways in which each person "rocks."

I mean, I must rock, too. Sometimes I even get up the nerve to compliment myself. And sometimes I even mean it. But to be honest, when I thought of writing things down that "rock" about me today I felt simply sick to my stomach, as though everything that I would write would not be dishonest, but rather wholly undeserved.

So today's diagnosis: self-loathing.

I just can't pull myself out of it. I haven't been working well at work lately, and as a result my self-esteem has tumbled like a house of cards.

And yet, as I mentioned, I'm functioning. I'm feeling rational. I went out with some friends after work tonight for sushi, and then I went to a long yoga class. The instructor was great. I actually managed to focus for the most part, with my thoughts drifting only a few times. And I also stopped myself from writing to Marco in California today to tell him of my plan to come to Europe for Christmas. No, I stopped and asked myself if I would be doing it to get something from him, or rather if I could stand alone without reaching out for a crutch to my withering self-opinion.

Yeah. I feel terribly guilty for feeling sad. Terribly guilty. I really don't have any problems, apart from the fact that I'm in a life that doesn't nurture my soul. I feel as though I'm a terrible economist and that doesn't help matters either - if only I could do something at which I feel I can excel... And I'm lonely. But hell, I'm not alone there. It could be worse.

Yeah, it's all the same. But I'm standing and looking it in the face. That's something. I guess I rock for that. I also asked Dan out for a coffee tomorrow. Being with Dan always reminds me that I DO have friends. And speaking of friends, I was all sad and trying to stoically walk to the school for French this morning without crying, and lo and behold I heard someone calling out through the traffic, "Yes S can!"

It was my C-friend. As sad as I was at that moment I definitely cracked a smile at that.

Oh! And I have a plan to go and unload my concerns about my job with a career counselor in the department. I talked to someone about it and he reminded me that they have an interest in improving your job satisfaction even if only marginally, so go ahead and unload that you'd rather be a teacher or a historian or even in your wildest dreams some kind of an artist or restorer.

And this guy should know - he studies theology on the side and is thinking about a Ph.D. in the subject. Now THERE'S an economist with an identity problem.

That's the interesting thing about my department. All of the "regular" economists are stepford people with blonde stay-at-home wives called Sally or Mary, boundless self-confidence, and those energizer-bunny-emotionally-even personalities that make me want to scream (or poke their eyes out, if I'm perfectly truthful). But there's this small pocket in research across the floor and they're all a bit mad. How I do love mad people. They're quite often the only really "sympa" and interesting ones, you know? It just hurts me so much to know that they are feeling the same deep, grinding pain that I feel so often. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I really wouldn't. The theology one today said something about how he knows that he's not fated to be something or other - we were talking about the genetic component of all of this - and I realized that I don't believe that anymore. I've believed for a long time that one can change, but I'm losing my grip on that belief. It's been such a battle for me, in spite of my enormous stores of discipline - I mean, I have a STRONG will - that I doubt that I'm not fated to be this forever. I do doubt this. I wish I didn't.

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10:23 p.m. - 2008-11-05

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