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Tag Archives: depression

Brain Off on Tired Tuesday

My brain has been functioning on and off all day, mostly off.  I hurried home from work and managed to accomplish the tasks I had set for myself EXCEPT make my blog post before my rehearsal for Strike Story, the reader’s theatre production in Little Falls later this month (is that a run-on sentence?  My brain is back in off mode, naturally).  I just about had time to make a not very good post, but my brain clicked off big time.  It barely clicked back on for rehearsal, but I managed to stumble through that.

Of course, the operative thing to do would have been to write my blog post earlier, while on breaks at work.  I was totally going to!  I even had something to write about.  When I started to compose it in my head while working (I have the sort of job where you can do that), I found I didn’t really know enough about what I wanted to write about, so I would have to wait till I got home and got on the computer.  I just could not manage to write about anything else.  Some will say this is mere laziness or perhaps that I am not really a writer after all.  Dammit, I know I’m not a real writer!  I’m lazy, too, I admit it.  The fact is, I am down, and I always have a hard time doing anything when I am feeling blue.

In fact, I’m having a hard time typing this now.  However, one thing I have learned is, one must persevere.  One thing I must learn is how to write when I feel blue.  Another good thing might be to learn how to make a blog post with my brain in off mode.  Wait a minute, I think that is what I just did.  How appropriate for a Tired Tuesday.

 

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No Boot Straps on Wuss-out Wednesday

I am having the damnedest time writing and have for the longest time.  I think to myself, “I love to write!”  But all I want to do is puzzles, primarily cryptograms with a few others thrown in.  I thought to myself today, this is a symptom of depression:  you like to do something, you know it will help you to do it, and you don’t do it. What the hell, me?

The thought came into my mind, “People who have not experienced it cannot understand the mind-numbing, paralyzing, utter inability…”  I don’t remember how the thought ended, but I immediately felt I could not put such a thought into a blog post.  Nobody would buy it, I thought.  They will tell me to stop being such a whiny baby, and maybe they are right.

I am going through a few things, but let’s face it: We all have problems and many people have far worse ones than mine.  As I have mentioned before, I suffer from depression.  I don’t like to write it or say it, because it sounds like I am asking for sympathy or making an excuse.  And it feels as if I have exposed something private and secret I would really, really rather not talk about.  Some people do not “believe in” depression.  They feel it is a made-up problem and I need to just stop whining and pull myself up by those boot straps they’re always talking about.

Only I rarely wear boots and the ones I have don’t have straps.

Then again, not whining is not a bad start.  I cannot pull myself up by my bootstraps (and what a hoary cliche that is, anyways), but there are things I can do to make myself feel better.  I will try to do some of them.  For example, starting on a better blog post for tomorrow.  We’ll call this one a Wuss-out Wednesday and drive on.

 

A Slice of My Life

Sometimes I am too ill to write a blog post. Does it count if I am too depressed? I feel so self-indulgent even considering such a thing. Ooh, maybe this is a good lead.

That is what I just now posted on Facebook.  Almost before I had copied and pasted it here, a friend had commented that depression IS an illness.  I suppose I feel it counts for everybody but me.  You know, that thing many of us do that we treat our loved ones way better than we treat ourselves.  I know, a lot of people do the opposite, especially with physical indulgences.  However, I know a great many people who will put themselves down using terms they would NEVER employ when talking to a friend.  Just saying.

Where was I?  Ah yes, trying to make a Non-Sequitur Thursday post before I hurriedly get ready for rehearsal for Steel Magnolias at Ilion Little Theatre.  This is what I posted on Facebook earlier:

Here’s the problem: I have so much to do, I not only keep thinking I’m forgetting something, I keep forgetting what it was I was just about to do. Making a list does not help. I not only forget to put stuff on the list, I forget where I put the list!

To make this a true Non-Sequitur Thursday post, I should make a catchy headline that has little or nothing to do with the post.  What is this post about, anyways?  Not much, as is par for the course when I am involved in a show.  Right now I am involved in two shows and need to finish writing two more to begin working on them within the next two weeks.  Yikes!  Why do I do these things to myself?  Ah yes, refer to an earlier paragraph about treating others better than I treat myself.  And I’m not all that freaking nice to others, either!  Happy Thursday, everyone.

 

Lame Us Give Thanks

So here it is the day before Thanksgiving (although this post may be dated for Thanksgiving, because I never fixed the timestamp on this thing) (I don’t know how; technology mystifies me).  Personally, I would be thankful if I had remembered to bring my notebook to work with me an written a post in it earlier.  But I suppose there is no point in pining for what didn’t happen.

As I continue to fight feeling down and blue, I remember reading somewhere that gratitude can counteract depression.  Let’s see if it works.

I am thankful for my husband and my family and my job and my dog and cable television, when there is something on I want to see (does anybody remember the Bruce Springsteen song “57 Channels and Nothing On”?  If he only knew!) . Oh, that parenthetical comment was not very thankful, was it?  But I guess I am thankful I can remember things from the ’80s (that song was in the ’80s, wasn’t it?).  May women my age begin to have memory problems.  I think I read that somewhere.

Another thing I am thankful for is that I have the rest of the week off.  A four-day weekend!  Woohoo!  And that makes today Friday for me!  So it’s Lame Post Friday!  I think this one certainly qualifies. I hope all of you have a lovely Wednesday or Friday if it’s one for you, too.  I hope to see you all again on Thanksgiving (when it will possibly be Non-Sequitur Thursday).

 

Wrist to Run

I was undecided whether to do a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post or another Running Commentary, so I thought I’d just start typing and see what comes out.

I kind of impressed myself by running two days in a row, because I really did not intend to.  I had a number of chores to attend to and no desire to attend to any of them.  Just to bring up my mental woes as a slight change from my physical ones, I am fighting another bout of depression.  My biggest symptom this time seems to be a huge case of Don’t Wanna Do Nothin’ (the double negative does not make a positive in this case).  Actually, I’ve been wondering lately if my physical problems don’t stem from that.  My body is obliging me with a nice bout of psychosomatics, giving me a marvelous excuse to, in fact, do nothing.

Be that as it may, I knew I must get some things done.  I went to the grocery store.  I did the dishes.  I began to make my prompt book for Leading Ladies (we begin blocking rehearsals on Tuesday).  I looked at the clock and realized I had time enough for a two hour nap before my husband would return home from work.  Yes!  Nap!  Just what I needed.  I forgot to mention that we have a murder mystery rehearsal at three.  I had forgotten it myself until Steven reminded me.

Naturally I could not sleep.  I’ve been having dreadful insomnia lately.  It is not the least bit unusual for me to have insomnia, so I did not let it bother me unduly.  As I gave up on the nap I remembered that I was also supposed to do laundry today. I gathered a load and threw it in the washer.  Ah, the joy of having a washer and drier on the premises.  While it washed I indulged in a check of Facebook and in reading several other blogs.

When Facebook got old and I got tired of reading blogs, I began to think about running.  It was just after noon.  I had plenty of time for the length of run I am currently up to.  I decided to do it.

Then remembered the laundry.  It was done by now, so I went down and put stuff in the drier, carefully pulling out stuff to hang on the bars upstairs.  As I brought them upstairs, I decided I really wasn’t feeling all that well.  I would not go running.  I hung up the non-drier items.  What would I do instead?  Contemplating the other chores awaiting me, running started to sound a lot more pleasant.

So  I went. It would be nice to report that I got a good dose of endorphins and felt terrific afterwards.  That does happen sometimes.  It did not happen this time.  However, no run is without its rewards.  If nothing else, one can feel satisfied that one ran at all.  I worked on my ability to persevere and keep going despite it being not all that much fun.  Of course, it’s never all Plod and Persevere.  I had several moments of feeling Not Bad At All.  And I hope I don’t have a reason to feel bad about this blog post.  Happy Sunday, everyone.

 

Mid-Long Weekend Blues

Long weekends make for day to day confusion.  Wednesday I thought it was Friday.  Thursday I thought it was Saturday.  Friday I didn’t know what day it was.  Today I am similarly confused, although it feels suspiciously like Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

As you may have guessed, this is going to be a crappy post.

Sometimes when you are in the middle of a long weekend, and having a perfectly nice time about it, there are moments when you feel that you just don’t feel as wonderful as you feel you ought to feel.  And you can rarely make yourself feel other than what you damn well feel; I don’t care what the Facebook memes tell you you can do.

I’m not asking for sympathy, so stop playing those miniature violins with that unbearably superior fake-sympathetic look (really, you just can’t say some things to some people).  I know I’ll feel better subsequently.  My problem is, I want to write a blog post NOW, hit publish, and get on with my evening.

I got a lot of odds and ends done this morning and had a certifiable Mohawk Valley adventure this afternoon.  There is no reason to feel vaguely irritated, downright downhearted or any way other than satisfied and contented with my lot in life.  To remind me of this only increases my irritation and downheartedness by adding guilt to my other ills.

My best bet in these circumstances, I’ve found, is to just don’t worry about how I feel and drive on, getting done what I wanted to get done and trusting that things will change in due course.  My main thing to get done now is to publish a blog post (how’s this for a Freudian typo: I put “blot post”).  And here are over 250 words of nonsense that somebody might find mildly amusing.  Happy Saturday everyone and I hope to see you on Sunday, when I hope my wrist will not be on my forehead.

 

Running through the Window

Does that give you a dramatic image of a triumphant crashing through glass?  I’m afraid it isn’t quite like that.  However, I ran today and thought a Sunday Running Commentary might make a nice post.

Regular readers know I have been having the damnedest time getting back into running, which is a little ridiculous considering how much I love to run.  Well, I’ve been busy with community theatre commitments (as you may have read my blog posts about), dealing with physical problems (long story, not very interesting), and my ever-present depression.

Lately I have been more comfortable talking about my depression.  Part of me cringes when I bring it up, though, because, I think about those nay-sayers (some of whom, I admit, live in my own head) who think it’s not a real thing.

“Put on your big girl panties!” they say (I talked about that heinous expression in yesterday’s post). Also,  “Snap out of it!”  “Quit feeling sorry for yourself.”  “Get over it!”  “Just do something.”

That last bit of advice is actually a good one.  It has been widely observed that doing something, almost anything, will often alleviate depression.  It is also a widely observed fact that those of us suffering from depression often feel we cannot manage anything further than staying in bed and pulling the covers further up over our heads (that is, our respective heads in our respective beds; if we were all in bed together, well, I leave that up to your imagination).

What I have found for myself is that it does NOT work to just force myself to do something.  Grit-teeth determination only gives me a sore jaw.  Beating myself up only makes me feel worse (although I am really good at it, so that ought to give a boost to my self-esteem).  I have to sort of back into these things.  For example, I can’t say to myself, “I HAVE to run.  I MUST run. I OUGHT TO run.  I SHOULD run.”  I sit home and stew over these exhortations.  However, if  I say, “It would be a good idea if I ran,”  I often find myself in my running gear and going.

I ran on Wednesday using these tactics.  I felt so good about myself.  I wrote a blog post about it on Thursday, which never got typed in and published due to computer glitches (perhaps you read my Non-Sequitur Thursday post about that) (I suppose I could publish it next week, suitably introduced).  Then I did not run Thursday, Friday or Saturday, and felt predictably disgusted with myself over it.

Oh the vicious cycle:  too depressed to run, not running making me even more depressed.  Then I logged onto WordPress to see a picture of muscular running legs on Return of the Modern Philosopher, a blogger I often read.  I scrolled down and read some other blogs.  I could not bear to read about someone else’s running triumphs.  I read some earlier posts instead, making comments as I like to do.

Of course in one of his posts, the Philosopher talked about running.  I made some silly comment, he replied. I logged on and off WordPress as the day wore on, to be confronted by those legs again and again.  Hmmm…

This morning I slept in, decided that I would walk today and ease back into running.  I got up, made coffee, got on the computer.  Now, I did not make coffee yesterday.  I am on my own for the weekend, because my nice husband, who makes the coffee I like best, is visiting his family.  I had tea.  Later in the day I heated up some day-old coffee that was still in the pot (I know, some of you are saying, “EW!” while others are nodding, “Yeah, I’ve done that.”).  This morning I wanted some fresh-brewed goodness.

Logging back into WordPress, I made a few more comments and replies, saw those legs again, drank my coffee and pondered my fate.  Finally I looked up and said, “Oh, I’m going to go running now.”

This is unusual for me.  Normally I run as soon as I get out of bed or home from work or not at all.  Those are my three choices.  I guess sometimes I go at other times, though, and today was one of them.

I did not get any of them there endorphins I hear so much about, BUT I felt terrific from the moment I started till the moment I finished.  I was just so proud of myself that I got out there and did it.  Why in the world did I wait so long?  Perhaps the euphoria was the result of my first real cup of coffee in two days.  I don’t care.  I’ll take my good moods however I can get them.

I pondered the vicious cycle I mentioned earlier, and I realized something.  In the prison of depression (just to choose a really dramatic metaphor), I can’t break through the ever-thickening walls.  I can’t beat up the guards to break free (the guards being those nay-sayers that live in my head, I guess).  But every so often, a small window opens, and I can sneak through that window.

So remember that, any of you who suffer from depression or just a little blue mood, and I shall try to remember it myself:  watch for the window.  When one opens, sneak through it out into the sunshine and fresh air.  I hope to see you there.