Dad, mission impostible, The Cool Thing, The Crazy

being embarrassed about being sad about getting what you want is a hard sell

I’m either A) slipping into depression, B) out to set the world record in feeling sorry for oneself, or C) in an exceptionally bad mood these days.  As differential diagnosis, let me offer this:  If you tell me to seek help, I’ll invite you to mind your own fucking business, and be quite blind to the degree of hypocrisy that statement involves.  Until two the following morning, at which time I’ll admit you’re probably right.   Still won’t do it.  Because I’m an asshole?  Yes, probably.

Dad update:  Whoa, not good.  Mom estimates he’s got six months before he’ll have to surrender his driver’s license.  My middle sister is trying to get pregnant again, and Mom thinks by 9+ months time, she won’t be able to take care of both my father and Middle’s kids.  Dad keeps writing me these increasingly disjointed emails.  Reading them is like watching someone drown in their own thoughts.  What is the protocol — jump in after them?  Call 911?  There is no lifeguard on duty and I am standing here, watching it happen.

The Cool Thing update:  I am having such a difficult time processing TCT that I’m thinking it should be renamed with some title less optimistic and more indicative of how it’s totally wrecking my sense of self.

No joke, I was in the OBGyN’s office this morning and the doc was all twinkly-eyed excited, asking me for deets on TCT.  Two years ago, this would be my fantasy.  Well, not the speculum part, but YES to people looking at me and actually seeing me,  YES to having something to say about myself, YES to  not being invisible.

So fuck me sideways:  when the OB started asking about TCT, I *cringed*.  I mean, I felt like a stupid, phony, sleazy, self-promoting fraud wearing a giant paper napkin.  Nothing at all how I thought these moments would go down:  Sunshine would light up the room, little birds would chirp outside the window, and I would be AWESOME.

And I have to tell you, the NOT AWESOME has happened every single time someone’s brought TCT up.  When people have nice things to say, I only feel like a mouth-breathing dipshit.  When there’s criticism involved, I am instantly transformed into a 12,000 pound circus freak with notable body odor who feels compelled to apologize for her own existence.  I have fuck-all understanding of why this is so, but I can tell you for a fact that it is.   It’s  like Victoria’s Secret Catwalk fantasy versus Pantsed in the Junior High Cafeteria While on Your Period reality.

What I’m struggling with, is that for years, TCT was this dream that kept me going.  Especially around 2:00 AM, nursing with a tit full of mastitis and a brain full of post-partum.   (Full disclosure, sometimes my dreams were about having a secret apartment where I spent days-at-a-time sleeping.)  But!  The main fantasy keeping me afloat was  that one day, I would be more than a frazzled, sweatpantsed, bored mom that nobody noticed, who went nowhere but the grocery store, and who was frequently stumped when asked, ‘so, how was your day?’.   Someday, I told myself, kids would be older, and I would become someone AWESOME.

So now I’m an asshole.  I got what I wanted.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  It should be Queen songs on my internal radio 24/7 and giggling until I fall out of my chair.  I know it makes me look bad to say it out loud.   I mean, what kind of fucknut self-pitying problem is this?    Being embarrassed about being sad about getting what you want is a hard sell.  But I am.  And it sucks that after all that work, the one constant in all my not-awesome is me.

 

13 thoughts on being embarrassed about being sad about getting what you want is a hard sell

  1. I am dying, DYING, to know what TCT is.

    You are probably depressed. See someone, stat. My husband is going through the same thing. Got his dream job, we moved to a state with better weather, he has better hours and generally life is fabulous. Yet he has never been more anxious or depressed. He can’t enjoy anything he’s worked for.

    You had this image of who you were as a person and now that’s gone. It’ll take a while to process your new self and you’ll need help getting there. Hugs to you!!!

  2. If it helps you, I think that if anything really cool ever happened to me…I would react exactly the same way. Especially since I can so completely relate to That Mom Feeling.

    I’m terribly sorry, in an ongoing fashion, about your dad.

  3. Oh heyyyy I don’t think it’s bad of you at all. Because the dream involves everything being perfect, right? No (or little) other tension, no worries, you’re wearing an outfit you love that suits you, your hair’s perfect, you’re exactly the weight you always wanted to be, you’re not worried about making that silly expression you once saw yourself make in a photo and since then you’ve been terrified about how often you make that each day without even knowing……

    Or maybe that’s just me, when good things happen to me.

    But anyway. I understand you feeling embarrassed and sad about it, as well as happy. We’re human, we’re complicated as hell, we’re allowed to feel more than one thing at once. Also you have a helluva lot going on in your life (sympathies re your parents, holy hell, sweetheart).

    If you’re anything like me, too, no matter how much you’ve worked towards whatever it is? Or if there’s an element of chance, no matter how much you still objectively deserve it compared to other people who’ve had that same element of chance when TCT has happened to them? If you’re like me, then you still feel guilty and like a fraud because you haven’t worked hard enough / other people deserve it more / it seems awful to be happy about something good in your life when other people are miserable about bad things in theirs, and also you have bad things in your life too, so really why be happy anyway.

    Well.

    Um.

    That’s a lot of babble!! But the summary is, I hear you, I’m happy for the good things in your life, I sympathise with you for the bad things, and I think all of your feelings are perfectly valid.

  4. Hmmmm. Putting myself in (one of) your shoes: my parents are entering their 88th year and my mom beginning to get (and feel) a bit blurry around the edges. And we are all on edge as well – it’s scary and upsetting to see these changes and not know what will happen next (and next after that). My FIL had a surprising seizure the other night in our presence in a public setting – calling 911, no clue why it happened or what might come next, was so scary. And these, I think, are nothing compared to your dad’s dissembling. It changes everything; a constant thrumming in your heart with implications and ramifications galore. This alone brings anxiety and sorrow front and center. His accomplishments are pointless, given his condition. Doesn’t this in some way give your TCT a very different frame? I would also bet a zillion bucks that many many others with TCTs struggle mightily with this truly unanticipated outcome. This dream kept you sane, you somehow managed to plug along and wow, it came true! (wait a minute – you have haters? Eff that envy/noise). I vote therapy, you deserve to explore this multitudinous experience with some assistance. Don’t deny your whole self to your immediate family either – they want and need the all-of-you. xoxoxo

  5. I think some of what you’re feeling is perfectly natural, but it might not hurt to bring your thoughts to a professional and see what they say. Because it seems like it’s taking all the fun out of TCT.

    I’m so sorry about your Dad. My mother is disappearing, disintegrating, removing herself backwards from today, this week, this year…

  6. I heard a psychologist talk about “destination addiction”. The belief that when I get “there”, everything will be okay. The problem is either, you are in a state of anticipation because you are not there, or you get there and then need a new destination. I had a crisis when I finally became a parent and everything else in my life was not perfect. I don’t know you, or even have any idea about TCT, but maybe this is how it is for you?

    For me, I had to start focusing on living in this moment. I had to give up being perfect. My path forward was to read books about mindfulness and I went and talked to someone. It is much better for me now.

  7. Anne,

    I’m so sorry about your dad. I have read your posts the past several months and I have been left with a lump in my throat and no words. I just don’t know what to say because it all feels inadequate.

    This post and your last one hit me like a brick through a window. My dad treats me exactly the same way your dad does. Expecting failure. Completely distances himself from me until he needs me for something.

    Your discomfort with your newfound fame may have a lot to do with the fact that no one around you expected you to have that fame in the first place. It hurts and it sucks and it’s enough to piss you off royally all at the same time.

    I don’t know where I planned to go with this but I want you to know this much. You deserve success. You deserve accolades. You deserve to be recognized for the wonderful things you do and for the magnificent person you are.

    Do not be embarrassed and don’t feel like you have to apologize for doing what you love and making something great out of it. We’re proud of you out here on the internets. Friends are the family that you get to choose. Welcome to the family. 🙂

  8. George Bernard Shaw said, “There are two great tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire. The other is to gain it.” I think what you’re feeling is pretty normal. Also, you might be depressed.

  9. Dear Em,

    Your comment made me laugh. Your return address bounced, so I hope you come back by and see I appreciated it. Thank you kindly,

    Anne

  10. So I don’t know if it helps at all, but I can totally relate to what you’re describing. And I agree with everyone else about depression sounding like a contributing factor to the general suckiness of everything but also? I think a lot of people who achieve their dreams probably secretly feel the same way. They’re just not brave enough to talk about it.

  11. Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes… David Bowie said it best, but I’ll just add that this is a transition, an adjustment, a BIG EFFING CHANGE and you get a pass. Even though it’s TCT, it is new and different and messing with life as you knew it. I hope you feel better soon, however you get there and whatever it takes. xo

  12. A) Your dad: I feel you. My parents live 3000 miles away, and dad has been diagnosed with Parkinsons. Mom is exhausted already. She has gone from someone who could solve any problem to being immobilized by indecision. FUN.

    B) It is not an uncommon response to success to feel you don’t deserve it, and thus feel weird when people ask you about it and are excited for you. If you could, at least every other time someone asked you about it and your brain goes to that twitchy place try to replace that twitchy thought as soon as you can with a mantra of “I DO DESERVE IT. I am good enough” you may find that with time and practice you begin to believe you deserve that the happy thing. That you are good enough. Because you are. You just don’t believe it yet.

  13. Frikkity frakkity about your pop. Seriously. I have nothing helpful and frankly it breaks my heart. I am sorry that this has happened to him.

    As far as getting what you wanted? Dunno…. exactly a month ago we moved in to the most gorgeous house in exactly the town and precisely the neighborhood that we wanted… and I find that I am hella embarrassed about how posh it all is.

    Embarrassed that my husband has been fairly successful in his profession, and we look like freaking money-bags. Maybe we are. Comparatively. Mostly we have just worked very hard, and saved and were careful and very, very lucky in our timing with the local housing markets.

    …and that’s a stupid thing to feel shamefaced and apologetic for. I feel that way, nonetheless. I think I get the direction your going.

    TCT does not define you, but it IS a part of you. Gonna have to find a way to embrace it. I’ll let you know if I ever figure it out.

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