Are you listening, God? It's me, Jane. And I sure could use a therapeutic ear, a friendly shoulder, and a man. Especially that last one.
by Jane D.
Greeting a new day. Swimming. Writing. These daily joys are sometimes a struggle to achieve and appreciate, especially when the Tasmanian devil of Boredom is running rampant in my head. Not to mention the extreme moodiness that triggers depression so bad that I don't even want to be around myself. Which is tough because I really have no choice.
Come April, the grandmother and I won't be the only ones subjected to my emotional highs and lows. The cousin and her husband-to-be, plus the aunt and uncle, will be camping right here under our roof in Hong Kong. This is not my home, so there's not much I can say to anyone but God. And at times I wonder if he's listening.
I just want a home and a family of my own, I tell God. "I deserve happiness, too," I say. "I deserve a good man and a home into which I can invite anyone I like. Don't I?!?" I wonder if God is testing my patience by seeing how long I can endure this man drought and career uncertainty. I'm fairly sure I'm failing.
Over a recent weekend, yet another meltdown roared through my life like a Midwest tornado -- uncontrollable and painful for all to witness. Even in front of the grandmother and aunt, I couldn't stop crying over the impending arrival of the relatives and the envy over others' happiness. I know this is a waste of brain cells, but I can't stop.
I'm booked to see the British shrink again even though I am convinced it will be another blah-blah session -- me reciting a litany of complaints and her smiling cheerily and responding with, "I understand" and "Yes, that must be quite difficult." I am essentially paying for empathy. Next thing you know I will be buying a man.
The aunt, in an attempt to comfort me, said this: "If you can't fix or change something immediately, put it aside and just have some fun. Life is too short. Go out and drink some good wine or go shopping."
It seemed like a simplistic way to drown out sorrows, but I am at the end of the rope and will try anything, even credit-card therapy, however temporary to high.