The day I refused to be on TV
A page in the diary "Good mourning!"
Written by Luise 4. May 2007 08:12 AM
Hi diary and everybody out there,
I listened to my heart again and it did me good!
Today I was supposed to have a TV recording with my choir for some stupid show - they invite a person (in this case our choirmaster) and some other people for his/her surprise (in this case the choir). The idea was nice, some old choir member planned everything, but every time we talked about it or practised it went worse. I thought we would sing one of our gospels, but actually we sang a very short part of some ABBA song, backgrounded by a super-cheasy 80's synthesizer rhythm like from a karaoke machine. And it was all playback! Everything, the whole show, was just a fake! Nothing was real - we didn't sing in real, it was not even a live recording. Being in that studio I felt worse and worse. All these blinking gaudy lights, and all these people who take themselves so serious, just because they work for TV. And the show would be so embarrassing. The kind of show where the showmaster makes people cry by surprising them with something VERY affecting, and then filming the crying person and the voyeuristic audience on their sofas offer eachother a kleenex.
I was disgusted, and some voice inside me said: Why don't you just go? You don't have to be part of this. And this time I ignored all the voices saying: You can't do this, don't abandon your choir mates, you have promised to be there, you have to do what all the others do, they may not like you if you go... I just went home.
A girl must do what a girl must do. Hah.
I've had three almost depression-free days now, and this is how it feels:
- no pressure in my chest
- no tiredness
- waking up without worrying or being anxious
- having recovered my appetite
- knowing what to do the whole day, well, actually the day is sometimes too short.
I know this balance is fragile, but I'm very thankful about every minute.
I have painted my sleeping room walls. It's like new, and I really like it. I imagine that with the new paint I have dispunged every bad dream I had in this room.
I have deleted the times of very bad depression in summer 2005, when I just lay in my bed crying even ashamed to be seen by my cat.
I have deleted the times in August 2006, after coming back from the Camino Santiago having a world map and some photos on my wall and my first view in the morning and last view at night went to Montreal, Quebec, Canada.
I have deleted November 2006, when I was stuck in a jetlag lasting for the whole month, aggravated by a very hard case of broken heart.
Sometimes it felt as if all the "bad energy" of the past was concentrated in this room. Now it's clean!
I still have my moments thinking about my canadian. Was ist right to cut the tie? Did I destroy something great? Did I make him angry? Did I hurt him? I'm so used to thinking like that. But I advise myself: Stop - who destroyed anything? Who was the first who really treated the other person bad? Who hurt whom? Anyway. I look at his picture and ask "Who are you?" and there is no answer. I just see the face of a stranger, of someone I have knever really known. A stranger who seems to be a part of me. A stranger who was with me night and day for three months. Who slept with me, who's body became part of my body, who's smell was so familar to my nose. I makes me cry, it's so sad, and although I'm so sad I know that these days are the first ones without depression since a long time, and that must mean something.
I'm still ok with having said goodbye. It's ok, and on the other hand I'm wondering sometimes: Did this really happen to me? Why me? How could something like this happen? The good times were far too good to believe or comprehend them. The bad times also.
Some things are too big to fit in one's mind. That's the moments we feel numb, because if we would feel everything at the same time, we wouldn't survive.
I have lots of things to do at the moment: Work, my apartment looks like a battleground after the renovating, and saturday I'm going to the North Sea to see my parents at their summer residence. At least I can answer the "My life is pretty full"-question with a true yes. It hasn't been like that for a long time.
Take care everybody!
Love,
Luise