Unravelling Me: Part I

My name is Anna and I live with and manage anxiety based depression.

I have probably dealt with symptoms of it since I was 16 years old or from what I can remember. Sadly my memory is often spotty throughout my life. I find that a lot of that spottiness is around traumatic events that I have experienced. Sometimes it's related to increased symptoms of my illness or a "flare up" of the kind that causes the anxiety or depression or both to get to a level that I can manage. At this time in my life I find myself in a few existential quandries that make me feel like I am a huge ball of yarn completely tangled up so perhaps this year is where I begin trying to unravel the tangled mess that is me. 

I've struggled my entire life with never feeling "good enough" and sometimes I'm unsure if that feeling is tied in tightly to my illness or just an additional learned script I have running through my brain. I've tied that feeling frequently to people's presence in my life. What I mean by that is, that I have always thought that because I'm not "good enough" people are bound to leave or give up on wanting to know me. Often times, that way of thinking actually results in the feared outcome happening because I have either reacted in a way that puts me at odds with someone or someone just grows tired of always feeling that it's just too exhausting being my friend. Self fulfilling prophecy tied to an illness that wants to rob you of the feelings of accomplishment or satiated in the sense of feeling at peace. 

I feel at times that I leave a trail of souls who either love me without condition or discover that they no longer like me (or even may hate me). Some of these reasons may be justified. Most of them are built upon poor communication from both parties or lack of communication between myself and the person. I've also gotten myself into some relationships that were not good for me mentally. I end up trying too hard, and always failing in the end. These relationships were the perfect toxic mix for me and have often left me wanting to figure out what I had done wrong and how I can do things better in the future. I think about and work on myself and my brain a lot. I don't ever want to hurt others but I also don't want to allow myself to be easily mislead. It's a constant balancing act and I can safely say at times I have failed and fell off that tightrope to my own doom. 

I have been judged for my illness many times. I've had it used as a strategy to bring me to my knees. I've been told that I play the victim. I've been called crazy. I've been labeled toxic. I've also been told one thing to my face and then other things have been said behind my back that have come to light. In the end I don't want to play a victim. I accept that I have toxic traits that I constantly work on, I admit that. I also know the places in me that are broken that I keep trying to find ways to fix...ways that allow that to be a part of my learning not a part of what's wrong with me. I have come to learn that when someone presents themself in my world, the most important quality for that person to have is to be straight-forward and just tell me like it is. That need to not guess helps my brain a lot and I've found it's what I prefer from the people I associate with. 

I've come over the years to have less and less interest in glad-handing opportunities whether they be socially, artistically or otherwise. I admire those who can tolerate those experiences and just work towards a "community" where they can flex their own visions and missions with others. I'm unfortunately not as good at that. Artistically I find I'm very solitary at times...and in a world where people perceive you as good or not-good, it's not an attractive quality. I know that's part of the artistic world from time to time, but honestly I look at amazing souls like Basquiat who literally just wanted to have a voice in a world filled with millions of singers and a background of sometimes cacophony. Someone who was on the outside but thrust into the inner circle yet never felt comfortable being there. I get that. 

So why am I even going into this right now? Well, I'm taking time to explore the artists that have been meaningful to me and I'm hoping to find what it is about them that attracts me to them so much. My first artist/muse is the artist Laurie Anderson. I have been blessed to see her perform live (I believe) twice in my life, once in Philadelphia and once in Nashville. I am always awestruck at the way her artwork is a linguistic or sonic puzzle...pieces strewn across a table often appearing unrelated but then coming together to create a larger piece of art or a finished photograph. On my 47th birthday I got to watch her give a lecture as part of a series and it was mesmerizing. Her studies are so varied, her connections so fascinating and in the end the lecture was about words...well...rocks...well...the self but in relation to...others. My mate was completely confused by the lecture and I find at times that I have to try to explain to some people the thoughts that may seem disconnected and the threads that hold them all together. In fact, it's sometimes the depth stuff that I find alienates me from so many people. 

I can't just turn off that depth shit. I cannot just let loose and enjoy a night of inebriation or otherwise. I cannot just "not care" and I'm not sure if that's a manifestation of the depression, the anxiety, the feelings of being "not enough" so that I find I overcompensate. I'm not a happy-go-lucky gal, and at times I wish I was; but in the end I know I'm just not that person. I think. Often. Sometimes too much. That thinking gets in the way very often. 

In fact, this weekend as I ventured out into society after being under self-imposed quarantine precautions for over a year I found myself watching a group of young 20-something girls just reveling in laughing with each other as they posed and took various photos of themselves in groups. Or taking selfies. Not seeming to have a care in the world. Just being beautiful. Seemingly happy. Seemingly not worried about what anyone may think as they focus on their hundreds of photos they've took of one another in various poses in the side section of a food-truck park. Not at all focused on looking for others to notice them, but looking to find the perfect photo of them being "perfect" or "living their best lives" whatever that definition is for them. It seemed like bliss to them. I would love to feel that way from time to time. 

What is that feeling of nonchalance? How do you get it and how do you keep it? Right now, I can honestly say I don't know. I hold it as some holy grail or what I'd feel is equivalent to a heroin addict trying to capture that first high. I don't know if I've ever felt that nonchalance but there is beauty in it. Or at least I imagine there is. In the end finding some balance for me is I think the overarching goal of my life. In fact, the idea to keep working towards finding that was summed up in the line that Laurie Anderson ended her lecture with which is a Zen Buddist concept of the original face..."What did your face look like before your parents were born?" It's that face I'm seeking. 

How I find it is the journey.