A Tangent on Its Way to a Focus

Wasn't it an episode of "The Tracey Ullman Show" where personal theme songs were discussed? I didn't watch that show a whole lot, and probably have the name wrong ("Tracey Takes On..."?), but I think I'm remembering now. In the skit she was a therapist, telling her patient that every person should have their own theme song, a song that empowers them, a song that can be sung, hummed, or just thought about when one is in a spot. She had some crazy song for herself -- can't remember what -- that she turned on and sang while she danced around. (Yes, I am thinking of Susie, our favorite resident therapist, right now and giggling hysterically inside.)

I regularly have a song playing in my head. Sometimes they will annoy me and I'll have to exorcise them, but usually it's a good thing. For the last couple days the song has been Billie Holliday's "Until the Real Thing Comes Along." I suppose it doesn't help that I've played it a dozen times in the car now, trying to figure out all the words. And no, I will not just look them up on the Internet. I need the mental challenge. Really.

This post is quickly becoming something other than intended, so let me get to the point. Shirley Temple's "The Candy Man" just popped in to my head, bumping Billie out on her ass. I'm not sure why this is, but that's the reason for the first two paragraphs. Maybe what I'm going to say will help me understand, that it's a tangent on its way to a focus.

Today I read something on a blog that caused me to stop and just breathe for a while. Why? I related to it more than I thought I could. It pointed out things about me that I hadn't figured out for myself, things that I suppose were hidden in some dark corner of my mind... my soul... my being... This isn't something new for me. When asked what's wrong, I usually say I don't know. I really mean that I don't know. I know something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on it. Whether it's suppressed, ignored, not processed or not registering at all, I can't say. I hate that I don't know myself so well.

Yes, quickly going somewhere else. I'm considering deleting the above paragraph, but I'm not. It's vague and you're not going to understand it, and that makes two of us. I'll just pick up where I left off now.

Mister mrtl brought me home an Oreo Blizzard tonight. Stop. It gets better. Then, as we both sat at the dining room table messing around online, I hadn't noticed that he was watching me. He just says all of a sudden, "I love you" with so much emphasis that it's a little strange, like I just did something really cute and his saying that is a reaction to it, but I'm just sitting here, unshowered, hair in a ponytail, wearing my old, marmy school sweater. When I ask him why (not why he loves me, but why that way), he tells me a story about my napping habits when we were first dating. (I told him I had taken a nap today, which got him on that path.)

One of our standing jokes is harPing on who's luckier in this relationship. It's really me. How you put up with me. My mood swings. How I take them out on you. How I blow up without warning sometimes. How I can say that I don't know what's wrong or why I'm mad, but I make you feel like it's something you're responsible for. You have every reason to be mad at me on a regular basis, but you only get mad at me for being mad at you without justification. It scares the hell out of me to think that someday you could say that you've had enough, and that I would totally understand. Sometimes it surprises me that you're still here, even moreso that you still look across the table at me, unshowered, hair up, wearing this old sweater, and feel compelled to say those words with such conviction and enthusiasm. I mean, sure, I'm smart, witty, cute, and a great mother, but I can be such a bitch to you.

Kristine, as I told you today, you've helped me figure a lot of things out, as well as given me some courage to write about it, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude for getting me on that road (coupled with apologies for not voting for the Fonz in Pope Idol... I'm so sorry!). Reading your writing and that of many others is helping me come to terms with my own depression (there, I've said it, and a weight is lifted). Not just that, but also in realizing that this is something that's been a part of me for much longer than I thought. It is at once a painful and relieving discovery.

This post started out with the title "In Which I Say a Lot of Nice Stuff About Mister Mrtl 'Cause I Loooooove Him," changed to "Discovery," changed to a line I wrote that struck me as weird coming from my brain. I apologize to mister mrtl for turning this into a post about me. I didn't think I had processed what I had read; it just kind of came out after I started writing. I'm still trying to figure out "The Candy Man." It kind of creeps me out.

I'm going to run to the shower now and hope you don't realize I've been crying. And oh yeah, since this post also turned out to be more mentally challenging than lyrics...

Until the Real Thing Comes Along

I'd wait for you
I'd slave for you
I'd be a beggar or a knave for you
If that isn't love, it will have to do
Until the real thing comes along

I'd gladly move
The earth for you
To prove my love, dear
And its worth for you
If that isn't love, it will have to do
Until the real thing comes along.

With all the words, dear, at my command
I just can't make you understand
I'll always love you darling
Come what may
My heart is yours
What more can I say?

I'd lie for you
I'd sigh for you
I'd tear the stars down from the sky for you
If that isn't love, it will have to do
Until the real thing comes along.

With all the words, dear, at my command
I just can't make you understand
I'll always love you baby
Come what may
My heart is yours
What more can I say?

I'd lie for you
I'd cry for you
I'd lay my body down and die tor you
If that isn't love, it will have to do
Until the real thing comes along.

Comments

[LadyBug]

I don't really know what to say. I've had that moment when someone else wrote something that made me see a side of myself I'd refused to acknowledge before, but I haven't been brave enough to write about it yet.

Just know that I'm here, if you need someone. Heck, I'm not even that far away (until you move, anyway). You've got my email address, don't you?

[Summer]

Oh, mrtl...I just want to reach out and hug you. It might not help, I know, but I'd do it, given the chance.

[kristine]

Hey you. I didn't know either for a very long time. My mother was depressed, but she drank a lot. In my mind I thought that if you were a drinker you were depressed and seeing that I didn't drink...depression COULDN'T be the problem.
Thank you for loving mister mrtl. I wish I could have continued to love Dan. I had changed inside of myself so much and it molded how our relationship was going.
I have so many regrets, but the way I treated him in those dark times are the hardest to come to terms with. The blow ups I had were because I had no control.
*super tight hug*
Please if you ever need help...even if it's for a five minute freak out episode...turn to him and say, "i'm going to stop right here. I am SO angry...but I need help. Don't ask me what to do to help, just do something. help."
I'm sure if I had done that I wouldn't have bottled so much up inside of me.
I wore that anger like a badge of honor though. It was mine and he couldn't control that.
I wish I just would have said, "here, take this and help me."

[AndreaBT]

mrtl, I could have written what you did. I know what you mean when you say you've got it better than he does, and I definitely know what you mean when you talk about depression. You are a brave, strong woman to admit to depression.

And honey, I just have to laugh a little, because...you're moving to ALASKA?? Do you know what the lack of sunlight can do to you in the winter? :) Seriously, take good care of yourself, including getting outside help if necessary. Meds and/or a good therapist can make such a difference.

[Susie]

I like you SOOOO much. Some people you can just "feel," intuit, through the waves or particles or whatever this is through which we're communicating. Your post made me laugh and cry. I am working on a post about why therapists can't blog. There are things that clients aren't supposed to know about us, because it could be counterproductive to their therapy. And, small world that it is, there is at least one of my clients who has been to my blog. The fact of my doing what I do inhibits what I can say on my blog, to a large extent. So I'm goofy there. Not to say I'm not goofy in "real" life, because I certainly am. But I can also indentify with you, and Kristine, and others. More than you know. I LOVE to see bloggers sharing themselves in a way that helps others. It's just the VERY BEST.

I always have a song playing in my head. Some are great, some are horrid. Between the post about my ass and the invitation to the funk dance therapy group, I had "Ain't Gonna Bump No More With No Big Fat Woman" playing in there earlier this week. And you think YOU'VE got problems? ;)

[Susie]

Those song lyrics you gave us are beautiful. I would like to respond in kind:

Ain't Gonna Bump No More
Joe Tex

Three nights ago I was at a disco
Man, I wanted to bump, I was rarin' to go
And this big fat woman, bumped me on the floor
She was rarin' to go, that chick was rarin' to go
Man she did a dip, almost broke my hip
She was gettin' down, that chick was gettin' down
She wanted to bump some more, but I told her, no
You done knocked me down once
You done knocked me down once
Said, if you want to dance
Find you a big fat man
Ya'll both can get on down
Ya'll both can get on down, huh

I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
Lord, I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman

Somebody take her
She's too big for me
She'll knock me down

She came over to me, snatched me out of my seat
She wanted to get on down, still wanted to get on down
I told her to go on and leave me alone
I ain't gettin' down
You done hurt my hip once

I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
Lord, I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman
I ain't gonna bump no more with no big fat woman

Somebody take her, I don't want her
She done hurt my hip, she done knocked me down
Done hurt my hip, she done knocked me down
Somebody take her, I don't want her
Say, Leroy, you can have this one, dude
This big fat woman, dude
I don't want her

[mrtl]

Where to begin? After the emotional enema last night, my head kind of hurts today.

LadyBug, thank you! Yes, I have your email address.

Summer, hugs right back. It does help. Weird, but it does.

Kristine, thanks again. The control thing has to be my biggest issue here. Going back to high school I've had periods of what I've referred to as "funks." I always thought I could refocus myself, will them away, and that worked for me for the longest time. It's only been in the last couple of months that refocusing didn't help... especially when I lost my ability to focus on anything. That was when it dawned on me that I needed outside intervention. I'm going through the process now of figuring out what medication works best for me. It's getting better.

Andrea, I KNOW! My doctor has recommended that I get a sun lamp, and I most definitely will. It's the only negative I've heard from those who've lived there. I will also make more of an effort to get outside. It's so beautiful up there; I don't see that being a problem. ::knock on wood because knowing my luck I'll see a bear or moose my first time out and get so scared I won't leave the house EVER::

Susie, you're right. Doctors can't smoke or eat crap, teachers have to live perfectly moral lives, and therapists can't have issues. It's like saying you're not allowed to live. -- I'm not familiar with that song, but the title is enough to give me a nice mental image. Thanks!

[mrtl]

Susie, you posted the lyrics while I was writing. Oh my. I can't laugh too loudly because Bug's asleep. I'm so glad you shared them, though, and I'm sure I'll still want to laugh the next time I read them.

[The Merry Widow]

mrtl, I view you and a strong, strong person.... You are so brave to post your feelings here. I've always been the type of person to cover up how I really feel with humor and laugher. I admire your ability to be honest with yourself and with others.

[kristine]

mrtl...You are awesome. People say I am brave for writing what I wrote...but that was then and I wrote it in a book that no one could find. You wrote about it as it's happening and that makes you so strong!

*hug*

[mrtl]

MW - I could say the same about you. It's great to still have a sense of humor after going through tough situations. Wouldn't it be so much easier to withdraw and be miserable, to stay in bed? Sure, say you're crying on the inside, but it takes a measure of strength and self-preservation to still allow yourself to laugh at and enjoy life.

Kristine - This is therapeutic for me. Just having written about this, among other things, has helped me to better acknowledge its presence and take ownership of it. While it may be easier to deny or pretend it's not there, that allows it to control me. It wasn't a conscious decision, but this method is how I handle most other tasks in my life, from doing dishes to writing papers in college to putting together my to-do list: get everything in one place, spread it out in front of me, sort it into categories, prioritize, and take action. It helps to know that others have been through this; it shows me promise. I do realize that at some point I'll hit a wall and need to get someone else involved to help figure things out, ask me the questions I haven't asked myself. It is a priority to work out these kinks, before we make some major changes that will effect our family dynamic, causing kinks of their own. I only wish I had recognized what was going on sooner, started this process earlier.

[La Pix]

mrtl,
I hear you too. Been reading you every day and thought I should speak up - as much for me as for you.

This internet thing is interesting - if you're out there in the wilderness and feel like calling out, and you hear only your own voice echoing back, it doesn't mean that the other creatures aren't listening, aren't affected by your voice.

It is brave to write about your feelings, brave to acknowledge them even. I get the control thing too. I didn't consciously acknowledge until about a year into trying to feel better that I felt bad, or that I was responsible for stopping my own feelings in their tracks. Control.

Ok, I am tempted but I won't start singing Janet Jackson...

Just a fellow traveler here, offering some eye contact and handshake on the trail. And good wishes toward finding your balance. Or a hug, if you prefer. :)

(I know for me, at least, effusive wishes of help and caring often make me run back up the mountain by myself)

[mrtl]

Thanks, La Pix, and the analogy works very well. I haven't felt the urge to run away from this... but isn't that what I've been doing for so long now? I didn't even know what it was, didn't bother to once look back. That's gotten me into enough trouble.

My morning has been spent reading some archives... kristine, I'm stalking you... ew - poopy diaper. brb

[mrtl]

ok - back. Where was I? Stalking Kristine. One of her old posts talked about men's usual reactions to hearing "I need a therapist." I've struck gold here, ladies. He was the one who brought that up to me, as in, if you need one, go for it. He's on the path and has taken my hand.

Oh, and Kristine, I thought I read it all. I don't think it was all there, though. I know now why you asked me what all blogs I knew about.

[kalki]

mrtl, I think the Tracey Ullman scene you're thinking about was actually from an episode of Ally McBeal. She is Ally's therapist and recommends that Ally get a theme song. GREAT scene - Tracey is hysterical.

That doesn't really matter though. What you said about sometimes something just not being quite right, and not really knowing what or why, I so get that. I know you said we wouldn't get it and that you don't really get it yourself, but I know exactly what you're talking about.

My mom has suffered multiple times from severe depression, and I sometimes see hints of that in myself. It's difficult to admit, especially for us control-freaks. I wish you all the best as you continue on this path of self-discovery and find what works best for you.