Wednesday, July 30, 2008

A Good Cry

I've been in a "funk" for several days.

I've attributed it to a few things:
  • Missing driving - I've been in the office almost 3 weeks!!
  • PMS (sorry, boys, but it's the truth)
  • Frustrations with my boss
  • Insomnia
  • Mild lack of spiritual obedience

This past weekend, though, I started to wonder if it wasn't really a "funk" but maybe a touch of mild depression. I had always thought that I had managed to avoid this family inheritance, but as I pondered my state of mind, "mild depression" summed it up quite nicely*. I haven't felt exactly sad - like after breaking up with someone or a loved one's death - mostly I've felt indifferent. Indifferent to work, family, friends, things that usually give me pleasure. Going to work every day was a tiny struggle and a couple times I was tempted to cancel plans with friends. All I wanted to do was sit on my lovely red couch and watch my newly-installed cable TV. In fact, Sunday, that's exactly what I did. I stumbled upon a SciFi Channel series that I'd never heard of, Eureka, and watched the all-day marathon of its second season...well...all day. (It's a pretty cool show, check it out!)

Once I started putting 2 and 2 together, I figured I could pull myself out of this funk/mild depression with just a little effort, now that I knew what I was dealing with. I worked out some issues with my boss, restarted some spiritual habits, and put more effort into work, and slowly I felt the clouds start to dispel. Hooray!

So, yesterday's bombshell fortunately didn't have quite the impact it would have had, say...last week. It still knocked the breath out of me, though. Please don't ask for details - I'm not at liberty to discuss anything - I'll just say that it was pretty heart-breaking. I didn't sleep much last night, thinking about it. Then I awoke with cramps (of course!!). I picked a fight with my boss this morning. He asked me into his office at lunch, shut the door, and asked me what was wrong. I told him I didn't want to talk about it. He kept pestering me (please don't follow his example!) until, like usual, he broke me. I spilled everything, sobbing with just the smallest bit of control. He spoke kindly, soothing me a little. His patient showed up, so I wiped my eyes and nose and left while he went to fetch his patient from the front. I went into a back room, lights out, sat in a corner, and this time really let loose. For about 5 minutes I cried out all my broken heart.

I dried my eyes, stood up, and felt like I was leaving my burden on the floor. I felt okay again. My heart is still broken, but I feel like I can handle it now. And, the mists of the "mild depression" have dispelled and I feel more like my normal self.

A good friend and a good cry. Aaahhh. Excellent.

*Did you know that one definition of "nice" is "accurate"???