I’ve been having one of those days.
No, I did absolutely nothing of consequence today. I’m off work for at least another week, and I slept in till 1 and took a nap at 7:30.
I had made some plans with myself to go to a dark electro night in a neighboring town, but I spent the whole day dreading it.
I made pros and cons lists. I didn’t want to go by myself but that’s just how it would have to be. It’s 20 miles away, which means it’s a commitment and I can’t just bail. I could meet some cool people, but if I got cornered by some weirdies (and there are definitely those types at these sort of occasions) I wouldn’t have a friend as an exit strategy.
And, even though the only human contact I have had in the last week was the cashier at Aldi, I really really don’t want to be around people.
I talked with friends, they tried to convince me it would be a good idea and I would end up having fun.
But in the end, I think I’m bowing out of my plans with myself.
I can attribute my funk to several things:
– Probably PMSsing (my cycle is strange and elusive, hence the “probably”)
– I haven’t been as on top of taking my antidepressants as usual because my schedule is so weird, laying around doing nothing all day, so I’ve probably skipped a couple doses this week
– I’m laying around doing nothing all day
And I’m feeling guilty. I’ve had three weeks off in which I have accomplished virtually nothing.
I had grand plans. I was going to read a lot. I was going to check out the staff gym. I was going to be active.
And instead, I’ve laid in bed most of the day, sleeping and watching Netflix. And cuddling with Winchester “Chet” the DumpsterCat.
I have started cooking a bit more. That’s one good thing I can say about this time off.
I made this amazing Sweet Potato Black Bean Quinoa Bowl with cilantro lime drizzle.
But I still feel shitty.
Tonight has been a downward spiral into my feelings. Beating myself up, feeling lazy, feeling gross.
Fuck. I was doing so well. I was feeling so great, so happy, so full of energy, spouting all of these positive platitudes.
And now, here I am, having become a hermit, wallowing in self-pity once again.
Feeling the heavy blanket of inaction and apathy attempting to smother me once again.
Not having the energy to claw my way out.
I can’t let myself be dragged down again.
I keep telling myself, “Things will be better once I start working again and people get back into town.” But the truth is, I didn’t have much of a community yet when I left this spring. How would I suddenly gain one now?
And here I go in my downward spiral of self pity.
This is the shitty thing about depression.
Depression can sneak up behind you and mug you, bashing you in your head and stealing any joy you may have collected since the last time you met.
It happens. But I know that the other side exists, and it’s worth the fight.