Yesterday I wrote and explained, while quite frazzled, how my depression and anxiety were spiking so much that I could hardly focus on properly constructing sentences. Somehow, though, I managed to properly construct enough sentences to get my message across to you and provide a little relief to myself.
At the present, I am not feeling so urgently overwhelmed by my own mind. Let’s say that if last night my mind were thunder storming, right now my mind is stuck in a steady drizzle. Naturally I would prefer warm sunshine, but I can settle with a drizzle. I am learning to dance in the rain, after all.
If you have ever been depressed, you probably know that after a bad night, all you want to do is sleep. You also probably know that if you are that depressed, hiding in your sleep is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. Bless my mother who came by my room around 10am this morning and, while I groaned and turned over in my bed, reminded me with kindness that I “always feel better once I get up and start my day.” So I got up, ate and showered and sat on my floor intending to listen to music and do some stretches. Unfortunately my sitting on my floor quickly turned into lying on the floor and my semi-motivated attitude quickly became a mushy pile of hopeless thoughts.
When one gets depressed, there is often a point where, however much the rational brain tries to argue, they do not believe that they will ever get out of their depression.
It’s the pits. Literally. It is a nasty, dark pit that takes superhuman strength to climb out of.
Anyway, I was lying there in my pushy pit-y (pity—haha! how punny) pile thinking that for once, Mom was wrong. In this one particular scenario, I did NOT feel better after waking up and starting my day. Hmmph.
My bitter attitude lasted for about three split seconds until I remembered that I had plans to meet with a friend. If I had still been sleeping, I would have had difficulty getting myself up, which would have led to cancelling on my friend. Fortunately I was awake. I had a frown on my face and felt like sobbing, but I was able to get ready for the day and know that I would not have to be isolated in my home for hours.
As is typical, it took me about an hour into my time with my friend for me to actually start to feel a little better. After an hour, I suddenly remembered that life isn’t ALL bad. Oh yes—I can laugh! And I can still appreciate my ridiculously intense crush on Tom Hiddleston! I suddenly remembered how good it can feel to talk about things in life that weren’t sad and upsetting—and to realize that I had lots of things like that to talk about. I can still enjoy a hot cup of coffee! And have fun talking about silly TV shows! And go on shopping sprees (which in fact was what my friend and I ended up doing)!
It was good to not feel quite like a sad zombie anymore. For a little while, at least.
A little while into the shopping spree, my mind and body suddenly reminded me that I was depressed and that I was low on energy, and a lot of the joy that I had just before built up seemed to go away. But I fought for it, and I am proud of the bits of joy that I held onto, through the rest of the day and into this very moment. I am still depressed and there is still a steady downpour. But now I have a new coping skill and a little treat I got myself to push through more rain showers. The coping skill is watercolor and the treat organic coconut macaroons.
Water-coloring is meditative and delightful in a simple way while coconut macaroons are just plain delicious!
My hope is that tomorrow I will wake up with hope and ambition, knowing that I have more than enough skills to push through another day. And just in case the going gets rough, my macaroons and my paints will be at my side.