Last Saturday I took my car through the car wash. Afterward I vacuumed and wiped down the interior.
So that’s the first time I’d done that in several months, even though I’d wanted to.
I’ve wanted to write blog posts. Clean my apartment. Do laundry.
I’ve wanted to feel better.
Depression is insidious in how it impacts me. I want to do so many things, but I just can’t make myself get up and do it. I don’t go anywhere. I don’t do anything. I mostly sit at home and hide from the world with it, my constant companion.
Then along comes a day like Saturday and I overdo it because I can’t be sure when there will be another good day. After cleaning the car I did some shopping, then went home and cleaned my apartment.
I am brutal to myself on the not-so-good days. “Why can’t you do it?” “You’re not depressed; you’re lazy.” And there’s the tried-and-true GOP favorite, “You oughtta just pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”
My atheism is directly attributed to my depression. After years of praying for relief and finding none, I came to the conclusion that either a) there is no god, or b) there is a god but he doesn’t give a shit about me. I figure either way I’m not out anything.
I’ve lost many friends because of depression. I couldn’t maintain a friendship. I didn’t call. I didn’t accept invitations. I felt bad about it (and still do), but I couldn’t bring myself to tell them the truth.
I don’t talk much about depression because maybe if I don’t talk about it, I can put up enough of a front that you won’t know. I’m ashamed of my depression. And one need only read the comments following the recent spate of suicide articles and opinion pieces to know there are some real assholes in the world. Best keep my Achilles heel to myself.
Yes, after two years of enduring the loss of Malachi, Rumpy, June Buggie and Bubba, changing careers, moving twice, and my dad’s death I think I should be just fine. And I think the world would expect me to be fine too. I must watch too many cop shows.
The funny thing is, I have all the compassion in the world for every other person who suffers with depression, and would bite the head off of anyone who attacks them for having mental illness.
I am working with a therapist and a psychiatrist. I’ve started a new antidepressant that is helping tremendously. I’m engaging in some volunteer work. I’m spending less time on social media and more time with my cats. I go outside into the sunlight, even if only to check the mail.
I am beginning to see the light. Here’s hoping that soon depression will no longer be my constant companion.