For the past month, I’ve been in the most crippling depressive state I can recall having. I’m not saying I’m the most depressed I’ve ever been. I’m just more disabled by the exhaustion than ever. It has been so bad, I’ve required a nap each day. I can barely muster the energy to make dinner. I don’t want to eat anything unless it doesn’t require I prepare it. My clothes don’t fit because my weight keeps rising. The effects of the depression are only digging the hole deeper.
Today, I didn’t plan anything. I didn’t reserve a slot at the gym figuring I’d be up if I was going to go. My husband went a couple hours away to help his parents take care of some things. Last night, I let the kids share the big bed with Aurora the red nosed pitbull and me. I wouldn’t have the opportunity to nap today because there would be nobody to help me with the kids. I ordered grocery delivery. I cleaned my house. I have been simply doing the bare minimum to keep my head above water, so the house needed it. I know I haven’t emerged from this awful depression. The fact that I was able to do it all and not feel completely worn out has me hopeful.
My husband, Matt has been making dinner, reassuring me about my concerns with my clothes not fitting, and ensuring that I’m ok before leaving me alone. I haven’t really told anyone else except my bestie, Liz. I’ve been going through the motions of life as a reflex. I don’t understand how people can survive this. My brain was not letting me take care of myself.
Right now, all I can do is plan things so I know there’s a future. I’m reading a book and I’ve already bought the next one I’ll read. I planned a couple of meals for next week that I think are easy to put together or that I will look forward to eating. I’ve started training for my half marathon in October and I’m up to 4 miles consecutively. Even as I write this, there’s a small, cynical part of me that says “yeah, right.”
I hate that depression exists and that I get to be someone that can’t quite get treatment right. I balk at telling my doctor when it gets this bad because I don’t want to up another medication and max out again to where I need a completely different drug. I don’t want to medicate at all, realistically. I’m still mad that didn’t work out when we tried.
Thanks for reading. I didn’t feel like writing, but I was compelled to share this little win since I don’t have much else to talk about.