Did it...

Well, I was finally able to talk to my mother tonight. I spent from about 2pm this afternoon until 9pm agonizing over what I was going to say to her...nearly chickening out many times over the course of the day but finally, as the two of us sat on the couch watching tv I was finally able to tell her that I've been feeling depressed lately.

It really didn't go as well as I would have hoped. It wasn't terrible. But just not the positive experience I wished it would be. I guess it did throw my mom off balance, and contrary to what I had thought, I don't think my mother had any indication that I was feeling depressed for such a long time.

The reason I got this impression was because when I told her...her first remark was something along the lines of, well, you should call the doctor and make an appointment and maybe he'll perscribe something for you. Which is not the route I want to take at all. I don't want to be perscribed an anti-depressant by someone who most likely doesn't know much about depression, anti depressants, etc. other than just a surface understanding...

Then, even though I told her it was something I was dealing with for awhile, she blamed it on the fact that I don't have very many friends, the fact that I don't have a boyfriend and the fact that I'm unhappy at my job. Oh, and my dad's ungoing health problems. It's true that all these things do bother me, but, with the exception of my dad's problems, they most likely are CAUSED by the depression, NOT the cause of my depression. Besides, my problems started way before these things occured.

Now, we're probably going to talk about this more indepth tomorrow, and hopefully I will be able to get her to understand how long I've been suffering and hopefully then she'll realize how far off she was tonight. I'm just really surprised (and a little upset) that my mother reacted like that. It almost seemed as though she had NO background in mental illness...which just isn't the case at all. I'm not going into details with most of it as they are family issues that aren't really mine to discuss, but on the very surface level, my mom has worked as a psychiatric nurses aide before she finished nursing school and has an interest in mental health which makes her a tad more knowledgeable than the normal lay person. So, I guess I kind of assumed that it wouldn't take much to get her to realize how serious a problem I was dealing with, but I guess I was wrong. Which is really disppointing to me, because once again I feel as though my own mother doesn't even understand me because she's too busy with everything else going on.

But hopefully when we talk again tomorrow it'll be better. I'm taking her to lunch (I invited her before I decided to talk to her), and for some strange reason we have a much better relationship outside the house. Once my old manager at this department store made a remark that we seemed like best friends because we'd often come to the store and shop on my days off, and we always got along really well. Maybe not as close as the younger two Gilmore Girls, but you get the idea. So tomorrow at lunch I might feel a little braver, and mom will be a little less distracted and will be better equippted to listen.

I should have talked to my dad instead though. At least he pays attention to what's going on in my life and knows when things are bothering me. The last few days I've had this semi paranoid feeling that my dad's been reading this blog...the other day after I had that rant about my mom and her dog "issues" my dad came to me and said that I shouldn't let her get to me and that I shouldn't give up sleep, or going out with friends just because of the dog...then today when he got home from work he asked me if anything "interesting" happened today. Which I've never noticed him asking me before. So it's sort of strange that twice I've blogged about something and my dad's come to me and said something that gave me the idea that he's read my blog...which I'm almost positive he hasn't...as my dad's nearly computer illiterate and I don't think he would even guess that I keep a blog (or possibly what a blog is!)...but it still makes me wonder. So Dad, if you are reading my blog, you don't have to hide! I promise not to be (too) mad.

Oh well, I'm heading off to bed. I'm feeling quite exhasted.

Garbage-I Think I'm Paranoid