Most mornings I wake-up just as tired as I was when I laid down to go to bed. It doesn't matter if I sleep 2 hours or 12 it all feels the same. I step out of bed, and start counting down the hours until I can go back to sleep. Little tasks like taking Sarah around the block for her morning walk are equivalent to pushing a boulder up a hill. I think this is what I hate most about being depressed; it has robbed me of my motivation. I'm the type of person who usually loves to clean, work, read, write, and take photos. But now I could spend the whole day zoned out in front of the TV if I let myself. As it stands I have to give myself one task I must accomplish each day (clean the bathroom, fold the laundry) just so I can feel like a functioning member of society.
I usually have more patience than Mother Theresa. But now I find myself getting irritable if something takes two more seconds than it should. I am sometimes so needlessly snappy with Adam, just because he is the only one here. I always apologize immediately afterwards, and he always forgives me. However I still feel guilty about it for hours, and the guilt plummets me into a crying jag. And then my wonderful husband, who I have just been so terrible to, rubs my back and lets me cry it out. I don't know if I deserve his kindness.
I feel like I’m losing myself.
I can see the finish line now. I finally have health insurance, so I'm just waiting for the cards to come in the mail. Then I will find the energy to go to the doctor, and muster up the courage to say, “I’m not OK."
365 days ago (give or take):
Are these your underwear on the floor? Of course not, they are Norma’s. Don’t forget to shave! Don’t worry; I’ll do it at Norma’s. But my favorite has to be, where would you be without me? I’d be with Norma….
I have a run in with a girl who had a crush on Adam. It's BRITTANY bitch.