The Joker in My Brain

I’m supposed to be journaling. Everyday. That’s what my doctor tells me. And when I do it helps me. And yet… I suck at doing it. Why? Why can I not seem to take the time – even a measly 10 minutes – to do something that helps my brain? It’s the worst.

On Monday I woke up at a complete loss. A loss for words, a loss for energy, a loss for connection. I had had a migraine Saturday night through Sunday and still had the residual pains from it. I was exhausted, wearing sunglasses all day and working with the lights off. In my brain fog I felt disconnected, empty. No matter what I told myself, my depression and anxiety kept lying to me, saying “nobody really likes you,” “everyone is pretending they want you around.”

Perhaps if I had journaled, as I’m supposed to be doing, and as I kept telling myself to do all day, I could have helped myself out of that “funk”, out of that constant loop of existential crisis. But I didn’t so alas, I do not know.

It’s been a few days now. I feel a bit better. Let’s hope it stays that way.

What sort of ‘tricks’ do you have to get through days like this, when your regular mantras won’t work?

Depression, the Lying Bitch It Is

You know that feeling you get when you’re in the shower, the heat turned up as high as you can stand it, your skin pinking as the water continues to smother it? You can’t breathe as the steam rises, the condensation choking you as you try to breath in, the sweat dripping down your forehead doing nothing to get you clean as the shower is intended to do? Your eyes closed against the light, the water, the house, the world.

That’s how I’ve felt the last few months. Despite living in a house filled with love – two children whom I adore (96% of the time, let’s be real) and a husband who is amazing (again, let’s be real, 93% of the time) and a puppy who is the best cuddler on Earth (100% of the time!), somehow the depression seeps in and continues to make me believe I’m alone and everything sucks. It’s roots are stronger than the love and understanding I surround myself with every day.

The exhaustion every night from pretending to be “normal” (and by “normal” I mean what people expect me to be)  is whole and literal. But I still don’t sleep well. Is it the depression? Is it the shitty bed upon which I sleep? (Pretty certain I’m not a princess and there is no pea but damn the bed sucks! lol) Is it the mom in me unable to let go and just sleep? Is it the dog? Is it the husband crowding me? Is it a combination? I don’t know.

But what I do know is that there are some things that have helped me through this bout of depression. Some things that bring a smile to my tired lips, a pep to my weary step, and a light to my heart.

My kids

I know, I know. Cliche, right? But seriously. More than ten years ago if you had told me that children could help me fight depression I might have laughed at you. Yes, I have always loved children and enjoyed being around them but I have also always known just how exhausting they could be – and that was before they were even my own! But these two – they accept me for who I am, flaws and I. They are the epitome of unconditional love. I realize that this may change at some point in time as they grow and change and become adults, but for now I will take their hugs, love, and kisses when I feel down and I can’t express to them why.

My Husband

Knowing he is here, day in and day out, gets me through. Even on the days I may want to strangle him.

Books

I’ve taken solace in books this time around. I don’t always when I’m like this; sometimes I can’t bring myself to read when I’m in a state of depression. Sometimes I just want to watch mind-numbing television and zone out. But this time I’ve really gotten into reading and escaping through some stories and memoirs. It’s been so nice!

Music

Speaking to my soul since I was wee little one, this will always be an escape for me. Music with moving lyrics, music I turn up so loud I can’t hear my own thoughts, music that makes me feel understood, music that makes me feel better, or worse; it doesn’t matter.

Friends

I don’t have a ton of close friends. Not a lot that I would sit down with and say “Hey, so, I’m feeling overwhelmed and weighed down and like I can’t breathe and handle it all anymore” to. Or any that I would say “I just want to curl up in a ball, under the blankets, and not come out for days, because people/things scare me” to. Mostly those people don’t truly exist in my life. But I have a few that I’m beginning to see exist. Some have been in my life for quite a bit and others came by way of a random book group I joined, not knowing what I was in for. I didn’t know how much I needed these people in my life until they were there. Without them I’d probably still be in the depths of the depression rather than coming out of it.

 

As you see I have lots of sprinkles in my life to bring me joy even on my darkest days. Thankfully I notice them. I see them. I hear them. Not always. But most days. They are my lifelines.