The Feeling of Sadness and The Sadness of Feeling

Good morning kind, single reader who might be a spambot. I've been having a rough go of things lately and thought maybe a nice, healthy, bitch fest might do me some good. Or, at the very least, it might help other people if they are going through something similar, or feeling something similar.

When I was officially diagnosed with dysautonomia in 2009 (after having horrible symptoms for 2 years), it took me a while before I could accept that I couldn't do everything. ("A while" being like, another 2 years...) Since then, I guess I've subconsciously operated under the idea that I could do a little less than everything. But, only recently have I realized that might also be an unrealistic expectation.

What I'm saying, I suppose, is that I've been struggling with some depression I think. I say "I think", which is weird considering I've had depression the majority of my life and intimately know what a bitchwhore it is. But there is an anger to what I'm feeling now that I'm not used to. A resentfulness.

For those of you who don't know, I'm a teacher by day. As I mentioned a bit in my previous downer post, I had an absolutely wonderful summer where I was able to rest, spend time with my family, and have enough "energy" to do a number of things I love... all in one day! ONE DAY, people! My God, it was AMAZING. But school has started back up and I am back to being an exhausted, pale, zombie. I can barely get through work, I can't do anything when I get home, and I'm so tired that I am snapping at my dogs and my husband. I hate that.

I love my job... usually. But I've absolutely loathed it since I've gotten back. Because I am chockfull of prickly, rage-y resentment. I've been looking at my job as the culprit -- that it has taken away all the ability and energy I had to do things over the summer. It's not my job's fault, though -- it's dysautonomia's. But how can I be resentful to that? It's not like it will solve anything. It's not like me saying, "Dysautonomia, I'm so fucking sick and tired of you. I've put up with your crap for so long and I'm just fucking done" will actually solve anything, you know?

I've worked so hard at trying to accept things because I know mulling everything over and being mad won't do anything except expend my already small well of energy. Hell, I wrote an entire blog post about it here and here.

But, emotions are emotions sometimes, I guess. I've spent a life fighting them when they just want to be, and need to be, felt.

I know other people with dysautonomia would LOVE to be able to get out and have a job. I know this. But... it's like maybe all of us have an idea in our heads of what it means to us to "live". Is it so bad to want such things? To want to come home and romp with my puppies and be able to cook dinner and write? Because it feels like it is.

I'm rambling. I do that a lot. I really have no idea where I'm going with this post or what I'm trying to say or even if there IS anything I'm trying to say. Other than we've been dealt a crap hand. Lots of people have, yes -- but that doesn't change that we have our own, unique, crap hand, too. And it makes me sad. I'm sad and I know you understand my sadness. I'm sad but I know it will get better because it always does. But it is hard. It is hard when that sadness settles in a little deeper.

So maybe all I can do is feel it. To accept it all, even the resentment and sadness. Because even sadness lets me know I am still alive.