i have committed the following sins against depression self-care, in no particular order:
- i have not avoided negativity. while a particularly nasty facebook exchange that i know much better than to have gotten involved in prompted a brief hiatus, it did not last long. upon returning to facebook i did a fairly good job of ignoring political and/or negative posts...for about two weeks. also i have engaged in an unhealthy helping of negative self-talk, copious amounts of comparing myself to greater (or skinnier) people, and three full-fledged pity parties.
- i have not avoided alcohol. while i have artfully arranged for my intoxication to be "social" in nature (therefore ruling out alcoholism) i have nonetheless utilized said intoxication and after-effects to provide a narrative of my continuous failures (see above sin).
- i have neglected exercise. well, i mean, i don't know if neglect is necessarily the right word. i was aware of Exercise's whereabouts at all times. but i refused to engage it nonetheless.
- i have abused my sleep patterns. i have reveled in the decadence of 12 hour sleep marathons as well as cursed insomnia on numerous occasions.
- i do not recall the last time i gave meditation more than a half-assed 2-minute try, and even that ended with me cussing at myself silently in my head.
- i have eaten total crap.
- i have relied solely on the power of coffee and (gasp!) 5-hour energies to get through my day in even the most minimally effective way.
- i have perfected the art of changing of the subject.
- i have perfected the art of silently resenting people for allowing me to change the subject.
- i have embraced numbness as an alternative to...well, anything.
Ah, well.
Is this the part where I say "it was a good run" and call the pharmacy?
No. No, dear anonymous readers if you do indeed exist, it is not. Because when i call the pharmacy, that will be that. The fight will be over. The next time i rely on pharmaceuticals to buffer the effects of life on my psyche - it will be forever. i will cease to be a person who has occasional bouts of depression and instead become a depressed person. someone who "HAS DEPRESSION." like, all the time. I will be on meds for the rest of my life because 1)i have a good doctor who will only allow me to "give it a shot w/o the meds one last time"...one last time. 2)it can't be good for my body or my brain - the weaning off, the spiral, the weaning back on, the even keel, the weaning off...over and over and over again. 3)i know the ridiculousness of this, but i just naggingly believe (like, almost a faith type thing) that the only way to really get to the light at the end of this tunnel is to go the whole way through the damn tunnel and come out on the other side. 4)i made a deal with myself, and i intend to keep it. i am going to do EVERYTHING in my power to control (?) my symptoms through better self care. routine. exercise. daylight. fresh air. breathing. fucking ginseng or some shit, i don't know. But i do know:
- i have not missed work, any work assignments/goals, paying a bill on time, getting my kids where they need to be, etc.
- i have laughed, even when not intoxicated.
- i have not had a crying jag lasting more than 40 minutes, and i have not had more than 3 of those in the past month.
- i have enjoyed making & keeping plans with friends & family, and have only isolated myself emotionally just a teensy-weensy little bit.
- i. like. feeling. things.
2 steps forward, 1 step back. its called the backslide. give it a catchy beat and it will be all the rage.
So. took the two steps forward, this just happens to be the one step back part, which means the next two steps forward should be juuuuuussssttttt around the bend...
