Third Culture Kid(s)

I wish I could write nicely organized, interesting weblog posts.

But I can’t. Or won’t. Same difference in this case.

If you’ve been following me around the internet, you know that I’ve been having bouts of depression. Not kill-myself-and-my-family depression, just this lingering malaise that makes it hard to do all but what’s absolutely necessary to get through the day. I have happy moments, I laugh (especially at the toddler, who’s a total nut), I even sometimes get work done. But the cloud is always there, even when the sun comes out.

I’ve thought long and hard about seeking outside help. My problem with it isn’t that I’m worried I’ll get put on medication against my will, or that I’ll find out something uncomfortable about myself, or anything like that. I simply don’t know what a therapist or counselor can tell me that I haven’t already figured out myself.

I’m pretty aware of what the problems are - or, rather, what’s causing such stress. I trace some of it back to the inordinate amount of stress I had over being pregnant (ah, memories. I especially liked it when everyone I ever met had to threaten to take away my internet if I didn’t quit looking up dire pregnancy outcomes) and trying to come down from that particular tree, and a lot of it has to do with getting pregnant, married, and becoming a parent in the space of 9 months.

A big chunk of it has to do with my dissertation and the lonliness and uncertainty of that kind of endeavor. Some of it has to do with cultural differences between M. and me that are only now starting to make themselves felt (ironically, they’re rising to the surface as M. starts relaxing more around me and allowing himself to be himself - warts and all. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but who knew that being raised by his Korean mother [he attributes a lot to her Koreanness] would have such lasting effects?).

And, frankly, some of it has to do with the unavoidable stresses of partnering and parenting with a physically disabled person (again, I wouldn’t have it any other way - well, except to the extent that M. says he wishes he were able-bodied - but it means that more of the childcare and more of the household physical labor goes to me than in many families where both parents are able-bodied. It means sometimes having to tend to the needs of two people who can’t do entirely for themselves, which translates into feeling like no one tends to my needs. It’s not necessarily true, but it sometimes feels that way).

And, of course, I’m socially isolated. I mean, I’m fortunate to be near my family, and that really makes all the difference in the world. But, on the other hand, I’m living at a distance from my graduate school, professors, etc. - so there’s comparatively little feedback and positive reinforcement from that end (not that you get a lot at this point in the PhD program, anyway). And I don’t have much in the way of friends around here (we only moved here about a year ago, and I’m not an especially outgoing person on a good day…), so there’s that.

So, I know where the stress comes from. And I even know what I could be doing to change some things. I could change the internal dialogue that tells me to feel guilty if I’m a) not working on my dissertation; b) not interacting with the toddler at all times; c) feeling frustrated and tired about taking care of other people’s needs, etc. I could also change the one that likes to beat me up for being stupid and lazy. There’s more, but you get the idea.

I could take up meditation. Even the simple kind - you know, sit in a chair, concentrate on your breathing, that kind of thing. I could try and take things one day at a time - or even try to just live mindfully hour by hour.

I know all these things - so I’m not sure what a counselor has to tell me that I don’t already know. I do know that I don’t really have a lot of time or money to spend in counseling. And that I’d probably have an annoying tendency to second-guess the counselor, which could prove counterproductive.

I dunno. I know I don’t want to go on like this, but I’m not sure I’m ready to make big changes. Or little ones. Although, as one of M.’s school readings for today said, maintaining the status quo is a decision in and of itself. Hmmm.

I’m not really looking for sympathy or advice (although I can always use a virtual hug…), so don’t feel like you need to comment. It’s just something I wanted to write about, because it’s where I’m at right now.