These are the ugliest pajamas of all time. The shade of green is really sickly, but they’re knit, which means they’re comfy, except they’re so big the pants slide down when I’m in bed. Maybe I should dump these for something prettier.
Anyway, here I am. Temporarily climbing out of the slough of depression.
Such interesting stuff back when we talked about it. How Depression Lies.
I don’t know if I’d ever thought about that. When I’m in the depths of depression I’m so beaten down that it all feels like reality, and when I come out of it I don’t think back.
I definitely never thought about grief lying, but you guys are right on that. You definitely feel like the hurting will never stop when someone dies (particularly someone young). But there’s an element of truth to that — there’s an emptiness that you feel will never be filled again.
And you know, that bit of emptiness stays. There’s a hole inside me where Stuart was, where my father and brother and sister were. Where my mother was. A little bit of emptiness remains where they were.
But you also can be happy again.
I’m sort of climbing out the pit. I’ve switched meds to Cymbalta, which may be helping. (If anyone takes Effexor email me). The book is off, and that definitely helps, though there wasn’t that surge of relief or sense of reclaiming my life. I think it was just too difficult, not because of the book but because of the misery of writing it.
Fortunately as I did the revisions I discovered it was a good book. Phew.
And I’ve been pulling myself out of it, until yesterday, when I suddenly had to think about things again, and I started slipping once more. I hate that I connect story with misery — it’s my lifeline.
But I don’t have to think about that until after the holidays. I’m using this time to daydream and refill the well, and I’ll face it afterwards.
I need to not dread it. Accept each day as it comes.
I wonder if one should fight depression or accept it? Or maybe a combination of the two. I think maybe accept it and then move past it, fight it by moving past it.
One thing I’ve done is go to church, trying to get outside myself, reconnect with community. Another thing is to listen to audio books and read. I can do that.
And if I can just clear the decks in the house it’ll make it more cozy, and I can enjoy it more.
So at least I’m feeling better enough to make plans. Alex has been over a lot and Tim’s been great with him. Loving and encouraging, so that’s good.
And I’ll get through this.
I was going to talk more about this but I have to go to the doctor (follow-up on the meds change). Anyway, I’m pulling myself out of it, bit by bit.
As long as I don’t think about writing.
I also want to go back to what Kieran was talking about — the essence of who we are. It’s worth thinking about.
But appointments come first.