mild depressive episode #4,052

december 9, 2020

the cold seems to have settled in for the winter months. i woke today and struggled again to get out of bed. in my head, i told myself i was too tired to deal with doing the dishes, even though there weren't a lot. the rational voice told me this was alright, that they could wait one day. the pressure voice said to do them anyway, since i had to wait a half hour until i could eat once i took my medication. i felt like i needed a hug. i felt tears welling up in my eyes as i put on some clothes that weren't just pajamas. but i let the tears be, took some deep breaths, and left my bedroom.

my younger cat, magellan, was waiting outside my door like she usually is in the mornings. she is not pleased that i've shut her back out of the bedroom, but it's part of my attempt to get more sound sleep rather than being woken up repeatedly throughout the night and then again in the morning when my flatmate is having his daily morning asthma episode. magellan meowed and followed me downstairs. noah seemed to be in a decent mood. a video game he's been waiting for will be released at midnight, so i know he's experiencing some happy anticipation over that.

i went into the kitchen, took my thyroid medicine with a full glass of water. fed tina, my geriatric cat. and then stared at the small pile of dishes in the sink. it would have been fine not to do them. but i knew if i went and sat on the couch, i would be tempted to check FB, and i didn't want that. and i didn't want to deal with a larger pile of dirty dishes the following morning. so i did them. noah went up to take a shower. 

once i finished the dishes, it was time to eat. i was happy to open a new jar of preserves. peach. i had been waiting to enjoy that. and it was delicious. i kept a thin layer over the buttered toast, and tried to mindfully enjoy my breakfast, including vegetarian sausage and cafe bustello coffee with sugar and cream. some day i know i'll probably have to give up sugar in my coffee. until then, i enjoy my one cup in the morning, even though now it gets cool much faster.

i was reluctant at first to burn my yankee candle that smells like a pine tree. i didn't want to use it all up before the end of january. but then i realized that i could likely afford to get another one if i needed to. so i brought it up to the office, and it's burning on the small, ornately carved table from my grandparents that sits in the corner next to my desk. i have gotten better at enjoying the things i have, rather than storing them until some future time when it's "more appropriate" to enjoy them. i realized that putting off enjoying things defeats the purpose. and really related to some of the hoarding behaviors that i picked up from my family. it also related to my difficulty engaging in small activities that bring me joy, because there is a part of me that has a hard time enjoying myself, still. my anxiety has trained me to be in a state of waiting for the other shoe to drop, and my depression has tried to convince me i don't deserve to feel good when there is so much suffering in the world.

i lit the candle. i let the smell soothe me, and set off a series of memories associated with this time of year, the scent of pine needles, and a childhood long gone.

i just feel sad. there is no passive suicidality. there is no sense of disgust toward my fellow humans. i just am sad and tired. tired of the conspiracy theories that claim covid is related to a plot to turn our country socialist (which makes no sense, seeing as there has not been any push to socialize medicine, which is one of the main industries impacted by the increasing number of cases across the country). i am tired of people willing to entertain the idea that this is part of a conspiracy. tired of people who cannot proclaim that black lives matter. tired of people who think that just because things have been the way they are, and just because they have also gotten the shit end of the stick, that this is what everyone deserves. tired of people who can't admit that they too deserve better, and that the workers have the power to change shit, but are so brainwashed to think if they miss a day of work they are a worthless piece of shit. i recognize lots of people cannot afford to stand up. i do realize i am privileged enough to be able to pay my bills in the midst of a pandemic that has threatened the livelihood and stability of many citizens. but this shit would have gone completely differently had people refused to work until we got our fucking stimulus checks. 

people are so afraid of having bad credit and falling behind on bills, when that was my constant reality for so many years. i realize now there really was a kind of freedom in not caring anymore about my credit score, or about the medical debts i had accrued. i accepted that there was nothing i could do to improve my financial situation beyond what steps i was taking toward long-term changes. so i just didn't care. i didn't care that i couldn't buy a house. or qualify for a credit card. or qualify for a personal loan. or pay all my bills on time. i got used to contacting various companies to tell them that my payment would be late because i couldn't afford to pay. now that i'm in a more stable position, i understand how the threat of financial ruin would feel daunting enough to keep people from revolting. i do like my life. i want to keep it the way it is. at least for a while. but that is privilege in action. 

it's already 1:30pm. i only have a half hour until my shift begins. and then i will have something else to focus on. the only thing i would have done differently today so far is to use the treadmill. but i have time. i could do that after work. i just have to push myself to do it. and it's not like i'm talking about going for a run. i'm talking about walking. just walking at a casual pace for at least a half hour. i want to make a habit of doing that, but i'm not sure how to get past the not wanting to move part. i guess i should explore that a bit more.

on one hand, not wanting to move is connected to my desire to rebel against the lazy narrative. to defy the people who would claim that we are worth less if we are not taking the best care of our bodies possible. to defy those who claim that people who are not fit are not loveable. there is plenty that i do through the course of a day. exercise is simply not included in that. and i am a worthy individual who still deserves what everyone else deserves even though i don't exercise. i have a little over 2 months of not smoking cigarettes. i am still learning how to treat myself better. give me time and i will get there. but the sense of pressure i feel to exercise does nothing for me but turn me off more to it.

on the other hand, i know that movement helps the brain chemicals that make me feel better. i know it's a way to keep depressive symptoms at bay, even though it doesn't mean i will be rid of them completely. i know that there is peace in the repetition of walking as well. that once i find my rhythm, it's comforting to just put one foot in front of the other and keep doing that over a period of time. it's good for my heart. for my circulation. i do want to support my heart's recovery now that i've quit smoking. i know i did a number on my system after 26 years of tobacco use. 

i'll just go do it now. that way i can get it out of the way, and feel a bit better before work, and then i won't have to a damn thing after work besides fix dinner.

i've convinced myself. that is what i'll do. see. it helps to talk it out, even when i have no one to talk to.