Overheard

On a show this morning about childhood and teenage depression:

Frau Gudrun Ott, Sie sind Kinder- und Jugendpsychiatrerin am Düsseldorfer Klinikum, also keine Psychologin, sondern wirklich Ärztin.

Yeah, thanks. And later on:

Wen sollte man also in solchen Fällen aufsuchen? Den Hausarzt, einen Psychologen, oder eine KJ-Psychiatrie?

In den meisten Fällen beginnt es beim Hausarzt. Wenn man dann feststellt, dass es keine körperliche Ursache gibt, sollte man zum Psychiater.

Sure, we’re happy to spend 10 years and aproximatly 30.000 € on our education, just to be ignored.

More time! I need more time!

As before posted, I am actually sticking to my work and learn plan. Hence the scarceness of posts this week. I can’t say it’ll get any better in the time to come, because man have I got stuff to do. When I do find time, however, I find it put to slightly better use when I actually get out of the house and spend some time with people – real people – instead of a computer screen.

For instance, Friday night was “girls night out” with me and some friends. We met up for some pre-club drinking and chatting, and then went dancing. Oh, dancing, how I have missed thou. And the loud singing. It’s in moments like this that I realise how important music is to me, that I still know the words to songs years after I’ve last heard them, can recognize them after the first few beats and that bending and shaping and staying alive makes me happy. And I actually held out until 4 a.m., although I thought I would be dead by 11p.m. Fun!

Then yesterday, again, a night out. I am on a roll! I’m not sure what was going on in town, but many stores were open until midnight and bands were playing here and there throughout the city. I sat outside a nice café, strolled around town, and was forced into consuming goods. Well, kind of. Can you imagine that, a boyfriend actually asking his girlfriend if she’d like to shop for something and then she’s all like: nah.

At least that was true until we went to a book store. The only thing on my part that would come closer to the behavior of a child in a candy store would be if we were in a candy store.I love books. I don’t think I could ever have too many of them. And there are just so many of them, when I go in, that seem to say: take me with you! I guess it’s like shoes for other women. Anyway, I could restrain myself to buying just one, although I did find one right before the cash register that was tempting. But the one I bought was making me feel guilty enough. First because it cost more than it should have, and secondly because there’s a hype going on about it. I bought “Feuchtgebiete”, from Charlotte Roche. I’m just too curious. And don’t worry, as soon as I’ve finished the one I’m currently reading, you’ll hear all about it.

The world is a vampire

This title is not only part of a great Smashing Pumpkins song (I can’t get enough of them lately), but also reminds me of the many nightmares I had as a child. I very distinctly remember seeing that fanged head in the dark corner of the ceiling above my bed, and the many times I was chased by one in my dreams. I actually still have nightmares about being chased, followed, persecuted. I don’t know why.

This post – just to warn you – is in a very different tone than the last. And although Jo’s last comment did lift my spirits, I was just before in a mood that sometimes overcomes me and that I felt like writing about. I woke up not feeling very well. Not ill or anything, just one of those rather “down” days. Now there are down days like oh, I’m kinda sluggish today, not very on top of things. Those are the down days I show.

Then there are down days like today, rather bad days, days where I feel crushed for no particular reason whatsoever. Believe me, I try to find the reason, it’s just not there. It’s an impulse to close the window to shield me, not go outside, do not make a move or the world out there WILL SWALLOW ME WHOLE.

In moments like that I just feel like running to The BF, bury myself in his chest, have him hold me very tight so that no harm comes to me. He is that strong. He can hold off anything. The thing is, that he doesn’t know this. Because these are the down days I don’t show, not if I can help it.

I guess I’m sharing this now because I have to force myself to become more openly vulnerable. I’ve always liked to portray a strong image, one of a person who relies on no-one and gets along by herself. I am independent could be my motto. Something that has been encouraged all along by my mother, the root of this problem actually, because she has WORRY written all over her. Inevitably, a part of that has been passed on to me. And I really do try to hold my shit together most of the time, because I don’t want my BF thinking oh my god, I’m with an anxiety-ridden scare-cat. Only parts of that seep through.

And I’m not blaming this all on my mother, I know there are many depths of where this comes from. I just thought I’d be over them by now. For instance, when we moved from the US to France (that was 15 years ago), I was such a confident little kid. Loud, thick-headed, ballsy. Then it all changed. Not at once, it was hard to realise, but slowly creeping from being rejected for some of the things I did or said (I was different) to being a part of my personality, an insecure person.

What really didn’t help was of course when the main stabilising factor in the house was gone – my father. My mom and dad balanced each other out. He was the calm but strong type, just like The BF. You could say that’s why I get the impulse to be protected by The BF, but I’m just not going into that “finding a partner like the missing father” thing. Nuhuh. I just know that it plays a part, a much bigger one than I’d like, because I find myself wondering very often how I would be like had I had the influence of my father all this time. That’s missing. And so I’ve had to figure out a lot of things on my own, not knowing what’s right, just having to rely on my guts. With time I will learn more and more that yes, I can take care of myself, I am a strong person, but it’s ok to rely on someone else from time to time.

BF, I’m really glad I have you, and that you can understand this.