Beautiful days full of love and happiness, and still I procrastinate
Tuesday morning. My God, I must be the luckiest girl there ever way! I am so happy, I have so many people that love and care for me, things are going really swimmingly at work, I have the World's Best Boss, The Boy (aka Alcott) is happy and healthy and doing amazingly well at school, and then there's my private life. No one sees the state of things at my condo or how much I eat when I'm alone, and I'm thankful for that because it's just wretchedly miserable.
I haven't used the Hoover in about a month, nor dusted in probably two months, nor cleaned the bathrooms in at least three weeks, nor changed the bed linens since, um, I can't even remember when. And that's not even talking about the enormous mountain of laundry currently sojourning in the middle of my bedroom floor. Or the dead plants out on the back balcony that I haven't watered since my trip to San Francisco back in September. And the bags of recycling that have been sitting around for months. I hate this!
I know it's just my depression and I'm seeing it creep into other areas of my life, too. For instance, Sunday afternoon, when I had some precious time with TCB, I just sat there and napped on his couch. Granted, I'd spent most of the previous three days running around after Alcott and his siblings, but this was the first time I'd seen TCB in a week and I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I just felt like things were off between us and it's because of me, I'm certain of it. If I were TCB, I'd be questioning whether or not I like him judging by my recent behavior. I want to tell him that it's the depression and not him and that I love him, but instead I sit there, silently. On the phone last night, I babbled away like an idiot and never said anything of substance. Please don't stop liking me, or loving me, or whatever you used to feel. I promise I can get this fixed, if only I can pick up the phone that sits about six inches from my hands as I type.
And then there are all of my online friends that are so incredibly successful at the thing that sits at the center of all of this for me: weight loss. I see their happy posts and I am happy for them, but there's also a part of me that remembers when that was me that was announcing my losses, me that kept having to buy smaller clothes, me that had the world by the tail. Why did it stop and how can I get it back again? I'm so tired of having to buy size 26s and, believe me, I hated having to pretend I was just a fuddy duddy on Halloween instead of admitting to Alcott's younger brothers that they just don't make costumes in my size.
I have to go to a meeting, but I'll try to come back later and write something a little more uplifting.
UPDATE: Thanks to the actionable suggestions of the lovely and talented Snackiepoo, I've made an appointment with my therapist (Wednesday, November 16th, because that's the first date that works for both of us) and sent a request for a quote for cleaning to Maid Brigade. Progress is sometimes measured in small steps and such is definitely the case for me today.
I haven't used the Hoover in about a month, nor dusted in probably two months, nor cleaned the bathrooms in at least three weeks, nor changed the bed linens since, um, I can't even remember when. And that's not even talking about the enormous mountain of laundry currently sojourning in the middle of my bedroom floor. Or the dead plants out on the back balcony that I haven't watered since my trip to San Francisco back in September. And the bags of recycling that have been sitting around for months. I hate this!
I know it's just my depression and I'm seeing it creep into other areas of my life, too. For instance, Sunday afternoon, when I had some precious time with TCB, I just sat there and napped on his couch. Granted, I'd spent most of the previous three days running around after Alcott and his siblings, but this was the first time I'd seen TCB in a week and I couldn't even keep my eyes open. I just felt like things were off between us and it's because of me, I'm certain of it. If I were TCB, I'd be questioning whether or not I like him judging by my recent behavior. I want to tell him that it's the depression and not him and that I love him, but instead I sit there, silently. On the phone last night, I babbled away like an idiot and never said anything of substance. Please don't stop liking me, or loving me, or whatever you used to feel. I promise I can get this fixed, if only I can pick up the phone that sits about six inches from my hands as I type.
And then there are all of my online friends that are so incredibly successful at the thing that sits at the center of all of this for me: weight loss. I see their happy posts and I am happy for them, but there's also a part of me that remembers when that was me that was announcing my losses, me that kept having to buy smaller clothes, me that had the world by the tail. Why did it stop and how can I get it back again? I'm so tired of having to buy size 26s and, believe me, I hated having to pretend I was just a fuddy duddy on Halloween instead of admitting to Alcott's younger brothers that they just don't make costumes in my size.
I have to go to a meeting, but I'll try to come back later and write something a little more uplifting.
UPDATE: Thanks to the actionable suggestions of the lovely and talented Snackiepoo, I've made an appointment with my therapist (Wednesday, November 16th, because that's the first date that works for both of us) and sent a request for a quote for cleaning to Maid Brigade. Progress is sometimes measured in small steps and such is definitely the case for me today.
Comments
Secondly, you would never guess by reading my blog or by meeting me, but I too suffer from depression...however, Wellbutrin has completely changed my life. I swore I would not be one of those people that had to live on pills, blah blah but I gave up on that and went for it last year when I wanted to quit smoking anyway. I went from exactly everything you described to my usual peppy and energetic self within a month. Don't get me wrong; I have my moments but now it is like everyone else...just ,oments, not every stinking moment. I don't know what your financial sitch is but treat yourself to a housekeeper for a day....just one day to get your house all pretty again, cause that can help too.
I am definitely thinking of you and you have my email if you ever want to chat about this stuff. I've been through it all.
1. TCB will understand. He will. And he'll do everything he can to help you. That's what friends do.
2. You've lost your mojo for a while, that's all. ("all"!) It will come back.
3. Goddamn, clean up the house, you filthy slattern! Seriously, you're cracking me up. Your house sounds SPOTLESS compared to my best day.
Girlie, ask someone for help, whether it's TCB or another friend, or family. I know, because I get in those depressions myself, that you CAN'T pull out of it yourself. When you get too deep into them, you can't even ask for help. So ask before it's too late, and if it is too late, then write that person a letter asking for help. And tell TCB what it's like, so that next time he can recognize it and know that you might need him to intervene because you can't ask for what you need.
I'm worried about you and want everything to be wonderful and good for you, I don't mean to come across as a know-it-all! "Here's ALL you have to do, Denise. Why don't you just---" So easy to say on the other side, isn't it?
many X and O's
I've been feeling much the same lately, and only in the last two days have I clicked back into eating healthy and taking care of myself.
I wish I knew what triggered it; if I did, I would share it with you. I hope things get better for you soon, sweetie.
I admire your courageosness and honesty in this last post. That energy you put into it will carry you far, little step by little step. Keep going strong
I'm praying for an end to the funk.
Secondly, I'm with hilly - you'd not guess by reading my blog either that I have days where I feel depressed, nor that I struggled with major depression for several years back in my 20s. Most of us present a face to the world that we want the world to see. 'Real' is often subjective.
Hang in there and keep pushing forward.
You know we're all here for you.
S