I asked my husband last night:
"Do you think I might be depressed?"
"How about you, you said the other day that you think you are depressed, too. But you seem so chipper about it."
"I think I started on December 1 when B went into the hospitial. So how long have you been depressed?"
"Since 1994 when my parents died. I'm used to it. And this feels the same."
That was an enlightening conversation. But I've got to take care of myself. And I don't really want to go out and get me some Wellbutrin or anything like that. I just don't. Not yet, anyways.
So there's this dark cloud, and I literally have to force myself to do everything. I'd rather just curl up in a blanket and stay in bed all day. But I won't.
I do find that when I get depressed, the housework suffers a bit. I think the kids have been picking up some slack, because I have not washed dishes in days, and yet they keep getting washed.
And another symptom: I cut my own hair. That ALWAYS happens when I get depressed. What is THAT about?
So, what's my plan? I suppose I just forge ahead with the "must do" items, and find solace in prayer. Perhaps I should create an imaginary therapist friend in my head to help me through some of the issues that I've got going on. It's cheaper than actually paying a real therapist, and sometimes just as effective....bwahahaha.
So, I watch what I eat, say my prayers, get exercise each day, wait for the sun to come back, and try not to get enmeshed with my very needy daughter, drink lots of water, avoid abusable substances, try and be kind to everyone I meet, and wait for the dark cloud to lift.