Friday, 8 August 2014

Depression sucks, doesn't it?

Just when you think you've got it under control, it sucks you back under. For no reason.

Today is (or was) my last day of a two-week vacation. It's been years since I took two weeks in a row. It was kind of nice having days melt into one another, forgetting if it was Saturday or Tuesday.

I was going to do things these past two weeks. Rip the vines out that are choking the cedars. Swim every day. Get some of my shit together financially. Make appointments, maybe even get them booked while I was on vacation so I wouldn't have to miss any work.

I did pretty much fuck all. Oh, before I forget, we did get a bird. A green-cheeked conure. I named him Belvedere, because this is how The Husband and Son used to call to each other:

This is Belvedere:

He's 8 months old. A little cuddle monkey. Loves it when I cup my hand beside him. He nestles in, and I rub the back of his neck and head. The Husband finally agreed that The Son was missing out on having a pet. A dog was completely off the table (unfortunately), so bird it was. I used the money the government gives for child support. I felt sick spending so much for the bird, the cage, the food. And The Son is very hands off. But he's here. I have to say, he's very quiet. We don't know if he is really a he or a she - you only really know if birds suddenly start laying eggs.

Last week, I did nothing. Cleaned up here and there. That's about it. On my son's birthday, The Husband came home early enough to join us on a "shopping spree", because it's what The Son wanted. I think we did well - bunch of t-shirts/shirts/ shorts/hoodie/jeans = $132. Then we took him to his favourite restaurant. The next day, a friend he hasn't seen since the last day of school came over for a sleep over. They had fun.

Monday morning The Husband got his stitches out from a minor operation, so I decided to get my blood test done while he was being taken care of, and later he drove me to the clinic so I could book an appointment for a mammogram. It felt good that I managed to accomplish at least two things. So why didn't it carry over for the rest of the week?

I hate this. I get too far into my own head and I feel overwhelmed. By everything. Since my birthday is near the end of August, I have to renew my health card, and my drivers license. Yesterday, while I had a raging headache and really felt quite sick because of it, I decided that I was going to take care of those two things today. I didn't. I barely moved. I was up having a tea before The Husband went off to work. I had three cups of tea. Sat back in the same chair. Fiddled around on my tablet. Spent far too long on twitter. Felt sad the whole time. I knew what was going on. I was being my own worst enemy. I have a really hard time facing things sometimes. Then when I do, I wonder what took me so long.

Depression sucks. Anxiety sucks. One thing I realize - depressed people should be able to have housecleaning services. It's awful, so awful, to stand in your home and not know what you should start first, because thinking of all the things that need to be done stops me every time.

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