I am unraveling an important insight about this bout of depression. I have been suffering in silence for far too long. It's taken me an excessive amount of time to realize that my mask of normality does not serve me. Even in communities that I love and trust, I find myself shielding people from the truth of my daily struggles.
What is the harm of having people who care about me know that I am unable, unwilling or otherwise inhibited from doing things I want to, need to or aspire to do? I'm not sure, frankly. However, I've been wearing a mask to shield people from really seeing me. I'm tired of it. Perhaps I fear that people will judge me for "giving in" to my depression or look at me with sadness and pity. At this point those options feel less burdensome than pretending. So, I quit. If it's a relatively safe environment, I'm done lying. If I can't do what you ask or expect of me, I intend to tell you. If you're happy and I can't make it to your emotional level, I intend to stay where I'm at.
More importantly, perhaps, I'm telling myself that it's okay. It's okay to do exactly what I'm capable of an no more. I am not superhuman and I have limits. I'm going to begin honoring them.
Sadly, the one area where the mask must stay is at my place of employment. It's definitely not a safe environment. I picture myself hanging the mask on my cubicle coat hanger. In the morning, I can take my coat off, put the mask on for the 8 hours of torture. The joy, however, will come when I remove the mask at the end of the day--leaving it squarely on the hook until the next day.
Which brings me to the other corner I'm turning. It's time for a new job. The corporate monster has been eating me up and spitting me out for almost five years. It's time to become more than a cubicle dust bunny.
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