Depression? Trump Era? Or Just PMS?

Sometimes I’ll get sad, and I won’t exactly know why. Is it important for me to figure out anyway? Because holy shitting dick nipples there is a lot of sadness to draw from these days. From the school shootings, to the much needed but very loaded #METOO movement, Trump saying...well, anything, never having a mother, being raised by a shitty dad, a reminder from a friend that-- no my ex, whom I loved, was truly a misogynistic asshole, all the money that I’ve thrown at acting teachers who have feasted off my insecurities, growing out of friendships, being rejected over and over in this industry, being almost 35 years old and still not knowing how to apply blush, how easy it is to gain 5 pounds all within a week, but losing it takes months or never, living being so goddamn expensive, a pimple appearing on my butt…the list goes on and on and on and on. 

This can’t be a new thing, right? Every generation has it’s pain. Women use to not be able to vote and even slavery use to be a thing. So this type of communal suffering isn’t unusual. Although the ache does feel fresh and new to me. 

And does pinpointing the root of sadness make it go away? Because even when I realize what makes me sad, there’s always something deeper, something darker that’s lurking underneath. It’s the original wound. The wound that has been ignored for years and years because I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was too young and couldn’t comprehend the weight of it all.  So I covered it with other thoughts and various behaviors. So why on earth would I want to uncover that?!

But sometimes I will. It’s taken me awhile to even know how to dig that shit up and more time to even want to. I had to create an entire emotional support army: therapist, loving friends, certain family members, a 12 step group. Once the troops were lined up, I knew I could jump because they would catch me. No matter what, I’d be okay. 

And most of the times, I just don’t want to figure it out. Being sad is enough without going full Columbo on my thoughts and feelings. 

And then sometimes, I’ll get my period the next day and realize…”Ooooooh right.” 

Holy shitting dick nipples is life hard.