Have you ever felt that you’ve lost a sense of yourself? Or that you never knew who you were? Depression does that to you.
I’ve found myself thinking recently – and this was before the big wave of darkness hit – about people who were important in my childhood. I thought of old neighbours, former teachers, my fellow primary school students who I didn’t continue onto high school with. I felt like I wanted to go back to them and say ‘Who was the Karen you knew?’ I felt some need to find that Karen because she might very well be the real me and I feel I’ve lost her on my way to pleasing the world and presenting them with the Karen I thought they wanted.
And I really want to be that real me. Not the me who I think my partner wants, not the me who the stepkids ‘need’, not the me the job calls on me to be, not the me who my mother wanted and never got, not the me who some misguided friends think I should be.
I went into therapy to find the real me and at times I really think I did. But I feel as if I’ve lost her all over again lately.