Being There

Depression is a place. For some people it is a place they rarely visit. These people are vaguely aware of depression, like the way you think about Delaware. Others have never gone there. Some people are permanent residents. I don’t live there but I have racked up quite a few frequent flier miles.

I have had to learn the same lessons over and over again. First, I feel good. I love feeling good. I am mostly a happy and cheerful person.

Then, something happens. I sleep too much. I don’t sleep. Either way I am always tired but restless. I make excuses and stay in. For awhile, I power through even though it is creeping back in. I am treading water. I tell everyone I am fine.

I am not fine.

I know depression well. Neglect becomes the rule. I stop cooking for myself and the apartment becomes messy. I am suddenly convinced that the medication I take has stopped working. I can’t write.

I have done a lot to try and shift myself out of this state. I have tried many things that people say to try. Some stuff, such as talk therapy and exercise, has been helpful. I love therapy, even when it is hard. My therapist is who I go to when I need help sorting all of my emotional stuff out. I also think this self-care flow chart is helpful. Think of it as mental triage.

Other stuff not so much. For instance I have never noticed a shift in my mood based on my diet. My guess is that I am basically healthy and unless I start suddenly eating all junk it really isn’t going to make a difference. Most anxiety medications make me super drowsy and spacey so I have learned to stay away from them.

I started this blog intending it to be funny. I don’t think this post is very funny. Oh well.

 

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