of our discontent…
I don’t think this phrase has ever resonated as much with me as this winter. This bleak, sad, depressing, fowl, dark, empty winter that is the putrid gift that keeps on giving.
So, lets just start with the crap (brain purge warning)
I made the mistake of convincing myself a couple of years ago that my “depression” was merely a side effect of my gluten intolerance. (negating the years of therapy with my psychiatrist) Perhaps because I felt so much better going off gluten, which just happened to coincide with the fact that I had a full time job, plus life in general was going pretty good at the time. (and I was only a year out of therapy)
Fast forward to this year… no, actually, probably last summer if I’m truthful, and those dark clouds started to roll in again. Life has been kicking me quite a bit lately, and as much as I’m a fighter, and built of pretty hardy stock, I find myself really struggling to climb out of the pit this time.
I’m tired in an indescribable way (which is ironic as I am also in the throes of insomnia) My mind is in a constant state of wander or just blank. I have little to no motivation to do anything.
And when all is said and done most days I just. don’t. care.
Things that normally bring me pleasure and excitement barley move the needle. Of course when they do, I cherish them.
Sadly every time I make a little headway, someone manages to pull the rug out from under me.
Yes, I know that no one actually has any control over how you feel, that it’s ultimately your choice to allow them that… power… so I guess in that sense I am to blame there as well.
So I’m in survival mode right now.
Each day I manage to unfurl from the fetal position and get out of bed is a mini triumph.
If I eat? Bonus points.
Get dressed? Give the girl a medal.
Leave the house? Epic.
Actually socialize with someone? Alert the press.
It’s actually good that I work from home, otherwise I would have amassed a rather large amount of sick days. From the safety of my livingroom I can still pull off some billable hours in my pj’s with unbrushed hair.
Every so often I have a moment of clarity and I see the dust on my shelves and the dishes in my sink, and I spring into action. But mostly I am oblivious to it all.
I know most of this is “circumstances”, and that it will pass eventually, but in the meantime… I tread water and cross my fingers, and celebrate the days I manage to get from sun up to sun down without bursting into tears.
Today, so far, so good.
I managed to convince myself to get out of bed around 1pm (after watching the hockey game) I got dressed and left the house. (!)
My intention was to grocery shop.
Panic ensued. (oh ya, the ED is back too)
Bought a book and a coffee instead. And walked. A lot. Until the sun went down and it was too cold.
Since shopping wasn’t going to happen, and knowing if I went home eating wasn’t happening either, I stopped in at Jack’s and treated myself to Gaucho Fries, guacamole, and a Caesar (the drink not the salad) pulled out my computer, and camped out for a bit.
So here I sit. Slightly tipsy. Slightly nauseous. But out in public. I managed to accomplish a few tasks, clean out some emails, and write a bit.
Not a great day, but not a bad day. A day.
Next up… some of the good stuff (yes, there has been some)