What Do I Really Want Out Of My Life?

Photo by Christian Lue on Unsplash

I’m certain I have asked this question before.

But now that I have the chance to think about it, I cannot say for sure what I want. My therapist suggested that I could notice traits in others that I like. Then, I could muse out loud if I possibly had the same habits and the same positive traits. This was more in reference to things about me that are true. Saying out loud what I want sends me into uncharted territory.

Truth be told, what I really want is not to have depression.

But I know that is not going to happen. Even right now, when it is largely under control, I know my depression is lurking in the corner, just waiting for the chance to appear. It is like the role of the unsung hero who swoops in at the last moment to save the day! I’m not sure I have the same ideas of my depression’s role in the drama called my life.

Back to the subject of “what do I want out of my life.”

I just don’t have the answer. I’m not sure that I can see out to what I want. Being prepared, being available, and being in charge is all I know. My work and my family all rely on me to be evergreen. I’m the one that can be counted on. I’m the one who always has a plan, an idea, a way forward. Over the years, I have always been there for others.

I’m not sure I even would know how to act if it was all about me.

I have written about needing to advocate for myself to be admitted into 5 North. The ER doctor, the Admitting doctor on Zoom at the hospital, and even the floor doctor when I arrived all seemed like I should just forget it and go home.

It felt like they all thought it was “just one of those things.”

But to me, it was all about standing and facing my depression. Had I let one of those doctors send me home, I might still be doing the same thing while expecting a different result. I would find myself being thankful that it was over. I would be sweeping any crumbs from the encounter under the nearest rug.

In the end, I would walk away, never looking back.

Until my time in 5 North, my goal was to get back to my “normal” self as quickly as possible. I had no interest in rehashing what had happened. All I wanted was to be as far away from what had happened to me as possible. Pretending as if it never happened gave my confidence a boost.

After all, it was just “one of those things.”

So, I walked away, never looking back. In my head, I imagined that no one saw what had happened. After all, if no one saw anything, then there was nothing to explain. And if there was nothing to explain, then I had nothing to worry about. I could relax feeling like no one knew what I had been going through.

Of course, the fact that no one knew was only true in my mind. 

There was even one person who checked the obituaries, feeling that I probably had ended my life. When I spoke with her, I was shocked to hear what she was thinking. I figured there were people who knew, but I never thought that anyone would think suicide.

I no longer distract myself with the idea that no one could tell I was in the throes of depression.

Yet I still stand by the belief that I almost “got away with no one knowing.” Of course this is doo-doo, but it makes me feel better thinking I was not “found out.” I can pretend that I am the only one who knew I was going through a rough patch.

After all, if someone could see that I was having a depressive episode, then they might see that I am a fraud, that I don’t really know what I am doing or saying.

Once again, I have wandered away from the topic, into familiar territory. I am writing about what I feel, but it has nothing to do with the topic. Worse, it feels like I am doing this to avoid writing about what I set out to write about.

My goal in writing this was to consider what I want.

Me. Not me after I have taken care of someone, but me alone. Just me. I do not feel that I am in touch with myself. I am sure that I know what I want, if I could just clear my mind from all of this self-doubt. Or maybe it will just take some time. After all, I am still wrestling with the question of who I am when I don’t have a title.

When I am sitting on the front porch early in the morning, drinking my coffee, who am I?

If I am not a father, grandfather, manager, or brother, then who am I? I have thought about this question for years and am still working on an answer that I can live with. So, adding a layer and asking myself what I want could take some time, too.

Perhaps starting with what I don’t want isn’t the end pf the world. When mentoring employees at work, I often get them to “reverse engineer” their career. If they want to wind up as the general manager of a big box retail operation, then how old will they be? How long do they see themselves in that position? And what steps did they need to take to get there?

By subtracting their current age from the age they see themselves retiring, how long will they spend in each role on the way to their ultimate destination?

So, understanding what I do not want could help me decide what it is I do want.

Well, that gives me one thing I do not want. Yet, not having depression is a non-starter based on my family history; I will always have a relationship with depression. I suppose my next step is to figure out how I can move forward, knowing that I will never be alone.