Molly Elizalde, Lenny assistant editor, in the April 18, 2017, issue of Lenny (Letter No. 82) wrote about the decisions she had made and had this to say “But something I always come back to is that finding your place takes time. Being patient with your own humanity (and that of others, too) — however arbitrary or crazy your inclinations can sometimes seem — can be rewarding.” We have all grappled with finding our place, for some, it has been acute and for others, chronic. For me, an introvert suffering from depression, it has leant more towards the chronic side.
I spent the long Easter weekend doing a lot of thinking, crying, praying and googling things like “introversion and depression” – introverts are more likely than extroverts to suffer from depression; “depression and anger” – I have come to the realization that underneath this seemingly calm exterior is a lot of anger seething and it took my doing something that not angry me would not have done to realize how really angry I am.
In a round-about way Molly’s commentary on finding your place sort of puts everything that I wanted to write in a blog post this weekend, but couldn’t, into perspective. I thought a lot about place, my place, and how I don’t think I have really found it yet and being in limbo even with all the patience in the world is not the most awesome feeling in the world. I thought about how I got to the place I am now and the people largely responsible for it and my indebtedness to them so this blog post is really dedicated to them – the people who keep me going towards finding this place.
If you are an introvert that suffers from depression, eventually the invitations stop coming because your response is always some variety of no and when you do say yes, you find some way to say no between now and the event. Your friend circle invariably is often exceedingly small. So first I have to say thanks to the “friends from when”. The ones who stuck it out, who kept issuing the invitations, who were there when the going got tough and came running whenever you had a situation that needed a friendly face or a shoulder to cry on. Thanks also to the friends who are not the friends from when but over time became like family. Who took me home from work because I was having such a terrible time that I couldn’t stop crying. The ones who gave me a safe space to let my guard down and be myself. Thanks to the friends I can commiserate with, empathise with, the ones who get it because they are walking the same path as me. Thanks to the friends who know sometimes I will be unreachable by telephone, not by design, but by choice but still call back or pick up the phone when I eventually return their call. Thanks to the friends who say things like “your poetry is magical so stop making yourself busy and just deal with whatever you need to deal with so you can write.” And really big thanks to my biggest fan who sees all the darkness and feeds it KFC and pizza, who is my light on the darkest nights.
Thanks friends. Love you all to bits!