One fact about depressed people, we usually don’t have many or any hobbies or interests. Just getting out of bed and completing the basic chores to sustain life can be overwhelming and exhausting, if not impossible. There is no desire to get together with friends or take on any other activities. If a moment of clarity and energy does come, we must force ourselves to use it to wash the pile of dishes that has been building up for days or weeks and scrub the toilet before it grows legs and walks out on its own.
What then if the cloud lifts for a period that extends beyond the time it takes us to recover our houses, shop for groceries and, for women, to shave our legs for the first time in months? We don’t know what to do with ourselves. I, during these times, often become absorbed in and even obsessed with various activities or buying sprees of a particular item, but when my fascination soon wanes, I crawl back under my covers never to return to those same interests. I remember Webkins with shame–so much time, energy and mostly dollars down the drain. My most recent obsession, Teavana, I am over it for months now. I’ll never drink all the tea I purchased or use all the teapots and accessories. So much time and money I waste on following temporary impulses when my head decides to feel clear for awhile.
Today, I struggle and ask myself, “What if my current medication trial becomes a long-term success?” I don’t know what to do with a clear head or even how to recognize it and manage it for an extended period of time. I certainly cannot afford a series of obsessions and impulse buying. I want to know for the long haul who I am and what I like to do in my spare time.
Except for a few dishes in the sink, my house is essentially clean, and I have four hours before I must get ready for work. My normal routine would be to sleep the entire morning away, but I’m not tired. I don’t feel particularly happy, but I don’t feel sad either. Is this how normal people feel. I’m awake and I just don’t know what to do about it!
This morning I am cautiously optimistic that my new med will help me function better, even if it does have a funny name. I am clearheaded and ready to face the day. I have several chores to take care of and I do not feel overwhelmed. Here’s to better days ahead!
My son, J, is sound asleep in bed and I’m bored. I’ve cleaned the front of the house and am now ready to make some noise in the back, but I can’t. Normally, I would be delighted to hide and quietly sleep my day away, but today for some reason, I’m wide awake, clearheaded and ready to act alive. What’s up with that?
I’ve been on a downer for some months now, barely able to keep myself afloat to work, eat and sleep. This week during my vacation, I dragged myself through some long-overdue shopping, cooking and cleaning. All of this was more my dear mother’s accomplishment than mine due to the fact that she spent much time at my side helping, cheering me on and giving me a push when I got sluggish. Rather than taking this time to frolic, play and rest, I needed a vacation to catch up with life–to complete chores that had been building up for many months while I slept through all my days off.
Yesterday, I sent a desperate plea to my precious doctor. During my past several appointments, I’ve whined about a generalized depression, but unsure if the clouds in my head were situational or chemical the doc has been hesitant to hand out more pills. Just lately, however, my brain has felt raging and restless. I haven’t been able to sleep but I haven’t wanted to do anything either. Miserable. Long story short, I added a new drug to my regimen, started the first dose last night.
Volatile as my moods can be, I’m always hesitant to ascribe benefits to a new drug until I ride it out for a few months. Nonetheless, I’m in a good mood today. I have energy and I want to use it. Get up, son, get up! I want to play!
Um, yeah. Maybe that’s why I can’t ever motivate myself to clean my house. Nobody ever comes over. It’s nice to have a guest to force you to clean!
That time when you feel empty because you’ve given too much of yourself and wish you could get some of it back!
Just now feeling sorry for myself and wishing somebody would give half a shit when I am depressed. I realize that self-pity doesn’t fix anything, but sometimes it’s inevitable when everything seems to be going to the crapper! Sometimes I just cry out to God, “Why, why, why?” I ask Him could I just see a little something good to help me lift myself up and carry on. Right now, I’m waiting for that little something good.
It has been four days now, but still I find remnants of him–a dried turd here, a piece of litter there, matted fur on the ceiling fans. Each strawberry that I bite into reminds me of him. Each creak, shuffle or clunk I hear in the night is him. So many times, I turn to talk to him when I walk through the living room, and every time I enter my apartment I expect to see his soft, friendly face welcoming me and pleading for a treat.
Bubbles, my precious companion of 6 years, got his name by an unusual technique that I learned for animal naming from my niece. I looked around the room, and the first thing that caught my eye was bubble wrap. From the moment I first lifted him out of the horse trough filled with bunnies at the pet store, I knew we would be great friends. The best pet I have ever been blessed with, left his earthly aches and pains and cares behind on April 30, 2014. I loved him dearly! I miss him like crazy! He is gone from this earth, but never from my heart and mind!
Photos of young Bubbles frolicking in my living room:
My good friend, Philip, fell in love with Bubbles. They entertained each other during his visit while I was at work. Philip created two cute videos of Bubbles which are too large to upload here. 🙁
My son feeding Bubbles something he should not have been allowed to eat.