Posted by Monkeyoga on October 23, 2005, at 10:31:05
Hi, all. Newbie here. Thanks to everyone for sharing stories and experiences with treatment, etc. Here is a little of my situation: I'm in the recovery stages of at least one major depressive episode, brought on by a break-up and a traumatic graduate school experience, about seven years ago. Currently I'm on Effexor and Wellbutrin, a combo my Pdoc seems to like and which seems to help. I also do yoga and attempt to meditate, which seems to help even more. Anyways, I have a story. I thought about posting it in "writing," but I don't write poetry very well. I think I'll probably tell the real story first and then creatively embellish it in that forum later on.
So, here it is: I've been out of the relationship scene since the aforementioned break-up in '97 (OK, eight years ago). Been in the dating scene, which pretty much sucks, but nothing serious. I'm not the type to pick up women at bars or anywhere else, except in the pretense of performing work against gravity (oh yeah, I'm an engineer and therefore employ "geek speak").
Anyway, I have zero luck with women. Well, maybe it's more lack of skill, I don't know. Mostly it's lack of confidence -- common among depressives, I know. Also, I think one of the sources of my overall mental screwyness is an female-approval seeking behavioral pattern learned early in childhood. I guess I was looking for some kind of acceptance from my mom that I never got, or at least not at the time (now's differ'nt) As you can imagine, this generally messes with the way I relate to women today. Anyone I'm interested in instantly becomes an object of approval-seeking. Of course, this is a complete turn-off and roughly equivalent to wearing a "F**ked in the Head" T-shirt.
And I think I'm the kind of person who is not compatible with that many people to begin with. So, when I – with a rare, alcohol-induced attitude of “whatever”-- managed to engage a somewhat interesting female in conversation after five years of generally repulsing (in the magnetic sense) women, I was delighted. We clicked, I don't know how else to say it. Electricity surged up and down my spine. I felt pure joy for a moment. I got a phone number and a goodnight kiss, and then tragedy struck: we sobered up. She fervently raised her defenses (she was left "jaded" by some guy in college), and I remembered that I was a whiny suck-up. By the time I saw her again, at an EXTREMELY confusing (we don't take #$%@&*! hints!) lunch date, she had lost interest. So, back into misery and depression I lapsed.
Fast-forward two years. I'm relatively stable. I meet The Coolest Chick on the Planet (TCCotP). The catch: TCCotP has a boyfriend on the other side of the continent. However, TCCotP seems interested in at least hanging out. So I continue to hang out with TCCotP. We go to a bar downtown (Philly) to see a band she likes, then to a diner. We talk effortlessly. The more I learn about her the more I want to know. We have similar musical, spiritual, and political inclinations. Plus, she's TCCotP. We go to another concert, this time to see one of my favorites (Son Volt). I meet her dog (no, not at the concert. Before it). I meet her living room. Effortless interaction. [Note: if you are at all like me, you are wondering, "did they get it on?" I can assure you they did not. More on this right…]
The concert was great and, of course, so was the conversation. […now.] I realized that the BF was an obstacle I would not easily overcome, but that didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. I just really enjoyed talking to her. I’ve felt for a while that there is something fundamental about life that I just don’t get, which is why I’m unhappy most of the time. It seemed she knew what it was. Don’t get me wrong – I wouldn’t mind replacing Mr. BF with myself, but failing that, just hanging out with her seemed an altogether righteous way to spend time. [Hang in there, I’m almost done.]
Now I hear that she is interviewing for a job in Seattle. This would decrease the distance to BF from roughly 3,000 miles to roughly 1,000 miles, and even less if he gets a job at Microsoft (which he may). More pointedly, it would result in a significant physical separation between me and her. This is very distressing. I know this has been said a godzillian times, but I don’t know if I’ll ever meet anyone like her again. I will really miss her. I hate it when that happens. I think.
-The Yoga Monkey
poster:Monkeyoga
thread:570865
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20051021/msgs/570865.html