Have you ever cried so hard you made your nose bleed?
Sunday was one of those days. I've had a series of pretty bad sessions ever since I volunteered to be the ice monitor at the rink on Sunday. Between the stinky attitudes of some of the parents who yell and scream because the schedule of sessions was changed and NOBODY told them (all they had to do was look it up on the website) and the price remained the same and my own issues, it's just not going well.
Things had been going along quite smoothly and then sessions were cancelled for three weeks and my body seems to have forgotten all the things it used to know how to do: like a right inside three turn(?). They were never my strongest three turn, but I could do them and suddenly BANG! Gone. I can't even seem to figure out HOW to do the darn thing anymore. It's frustrating and I've taken some weird sideways falls because while half of my brain says "Go, you got it", the other half says "No way in hell" and my body agrees with that half. It has me flustered.
No, it has me depressed.
I don't need any assistance in the depression department. My back hurts 24/7. My sciatica Sylvie has shown up and refuses to leave. Sometimes the pain is so bad, breathing hurts. Sometimes I can't put weight on my legs. I still have that annoying cough. I'm still fat. My stomach always hurts. My roommate/sister still wants to move away. But the biggest cause of my depression is my job.
For seven years I have worked with a woman who doesn't cover her mouth when she coughs, chews with her mouth open, refuses to lift the phone receiver so she uses speaker phone all the time, tells me I'm wrong every single day, has never allowed me to finish a sentence and has never, ever, ever said "please" or "thank you" to me.
This, combined with a lack of a social life, chronic pain and no prospects for a job whatsoever, has sent me into a depression tailspin the likes of which I have not known since 2002. (That's another long story which also involves work and skating.) How depressed? I have been contemplating checking out of this world. I can be pretty anal about things, so I have made a plan and picked a date. Things have got to turn around for me.
This brings me to Sunday. People, parents really, do not assume that the person checking in your little darling is someone's mother. You have seen me and my busted body on the ice, I am wearing a pair of skates, STOP ASKING ME WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER! I don't have any children, I'm happy to report. I'm not fond of children and even less fond of parents. If I didn't have kids last week, I don't have them this week, so please, stop asking me.
Also, no, I didn't just start skating. I've already discussed how tired I am of having to defend my skating ability. Will I get back to my former glory? I hope so, and fast as time is running out (see two paragraphs above) and I'd like to stop looking like this is the first time I've ever worn skates in my life. I'd like to restore that which was lost, get that which never was, feel good about my skating again. Your comments are not helping my depression, so...
I sat in the locker room after the one and only session I skated, crying so hard my nose started to bleed. A lot. I have high blood pressure (lucky me!) and that may have contributed to it. I don't know. All I know is when I left the locker room with red eyes, no one noticed.
Perhaps that's part of my problem; I am invisible to most. Except if I get in your oblivious child's way. Or when the Zamboni doesn't resurface exactly when you want it to; then you notice me. Other than that, I am quite invisible.
Amy, my coach, thinks things are getting better. She's a very positive re-enforcement type of coach. She also very positive attitude. My attitude right now really sucks. I am in a funk I cannot get out of. So deep is this funk that I don't care that I'm only skating 1 1/2 sessions per week. So deep that retail therapy isn't helping.
I just want to get into bed and stay there for about a year.
My sister plans on going to the rink with me on Sunday. She can be very critical and caustic; just what I need. (Insert sarcasm here!) We're going to brunch afterwards because she is tired of my cooking. I wonder how much alcohol I can drink and still get on the subway. Wish me luck.
Wow, you volunteer as an ice moniter?! That's dedication. There might be a little halo floating above your head for that. You can't quit your job, but you can quit your volunteering! Of course retail therapy isn't going to help. Actual therapy might help. If you've picked a date, you should talk to someone. Physical therapy might help. How are you supposed to be happy if you hurt so much?
ReplyDeleteSending sympathy your way for being invisible. I HATE that. Ignore comments from other people. I work in food service so I believe I can say with authority that most people suck and are stupid idiots.
Is it safe to get on a subway while drunk? Sincere question, I want to know. Never been on one. I know it would be a bad idea to be drunk on public transportation in the only big cities I have been to. Dallas, LA, even Denver. Super bad. Your sis will be there and protect you, yes? And hey, I, a complete stranger on the internet need you to get your act together. You inspired me with your last post. I want to go to nationals! I even started doing crunches. On my own. No encouragement. I can't explain to you what a big step that is for me, due to that total stranger thing. For depression, the right thing to say is that you need to get outside. To get light and air. I actually think there's nothing wrong with staying in bed longer. It's safe. It's warm. Sometimes you just need to heal a little bit. Does commenting on your blog give you access to my e-mail address?
Orangechiffon, I do not have your e-mail address and apparently am not savvy enough to log into your blog. If you know the key, please tell me. I would love to see you at AN in Utah (really, Utah? I think of Donny & Marie Osmond and nothing else!). I'll try if you will.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I want to buy one of your cds. Tell me you have some available!
Thank you!!! Your post meant so much to me.
My e-mail is the name I comment under at gmail. You can e-mail me if you want to. Internet friends totally count as a social life, and I've been there with the depression. I don't blog, I'm not brave enough to put it all out there! I do like reading skating blogs, particulary those of other adult skaters. It's comforting that I'm not alone in many of the ridiculous problems that exist in figure skating.
ReplyDeleteNow to get to nationals, I just have to get my ankle healed so I can skate again, and stop falling on every. single. sit spin. No joke, every single one. Can't pass bronze freestyle until I get it. Salt Lake City is only a seven hour drive for me across the mountains, and it's a beautiful city. Ha, no cds left. I'm glad of the experience, but trying to sell it was quite embarrassing, more so now when I listen to it on my computer and just facepalm at how bad it was.
I was just catching up with skating blogs when I read this. Please please talk with a professional regarding your depression. I too have battled depression in the past and I've managed to conquer it with help.
ReplyDeleteI've seen you skate and you are lovely! Yes, I do remember you from Lake Placid camp (not because you are black but because I had several very pleasant conversations with you). I think you would do great at Nationals.