‘I Don’t Wanna Be Me Anymore’

Depression, dissociation, and making it through to the daylight

It’s Season 2, Episode 11 of Shameless, and William H. Macy’s paterfamilial trainwreck Frank Gallagher has abandoned his bipolar wife Monica (the exquisitely cast Chloe Webb) for maybe 10 seconds to grab a beer. When he comes back, she’s nowhere to be found.

He looks for her outside; nope. He calls up the staircase; no answer. He starts back toward the kitchen, which is when he notices her right where I would’ve told him to look first: in the dark, curtained-off crawl space under the stairs.

From which hideout she delivers a quietly desperate line, an expression of despair so familiar it rocks me back in my seat:

“I don’t wanna be me anymore.”

I feel ya, Monica. Honest to God, there are days when I’d rather be anybody else.

I’m Not Always Great, And I Feel Stupid About That

It’s not that I think I, in particular, am awful. That’s not how my depression-anxiety cocktail works. Most days I’m mostly fine. Or at least most days I’m able to recognize that I’m mostly fine. Or that I’m kind of a…