Exploring Mt. Everest in slippers.

In the last week, I found a way to mute the voice of Depression in my head.  Hooray!  It doesn't make the Depression go away, and it doesn't give my battery/fuel any extra life, but it has given me some pleasant evenings. Coloring in.  I can see why it's being touted as an exercise in mindfulness.  I am so completely focused on what I'm doing, I'm not telling myself I'm a waste of space.  I'm so caught up in which shade of red to use next, I don't hear the Depression telling me I'm just wasting time before dying.  It's very calming.  AND.  I have something lovely to look at when I'm done.  I'm even considering buying some cheap frames and displaying some.  Look, I did a thing (dragon eggs from Game of Thrones).  It's pretty. Coloring is low energy - even lower than reading; which is my other go-to when I'm out of oomph and sleeping isn't on the cards.  There's no mental interaction.  I don't have to consider plo...

Mother's Day.  I'ts a trigger for me.  I didn't write about it last week, because the pain was indescribable.  I've had a psychologist and a doctors appointment since then, which is always cathartic, and helps me to frame my thoughts clearly. My Depression isn't because my children want nothing to do with me.  The Depression was here long before they were even born.  The Depression did  flavour their entire lives, and I'm coming to understand that the Depression is likely the reason my relationships with them were never formed fully.  None of which soothes the pain of a childless Mother's Day.  I fully comprehend the pain of Mothers who lost their angel babies, Mothers whose children were lost as toddlers and Mothers who have lost their grown up children.  There isn't a pain like being around when your babies aren't. I empathize with Mothers who mourn their children.  I'm also, in a weird way, envious of them.  Mothers w...

Last week was exhausting.  My sister broke her leg.  Until she's able to get about freely, I'm on the school-run.   I can do this  I tell myself.   It's a short distance, go, collect/drop off, and return home.   If only it were that simple.  Even a short distance with the Youngster contains, on average, seventeen hundred questions.  A simple conversation requires not just listening, but  engaging  in order to ensure I understand what they're trying to explain.  Then there are the mood swings (these are not exclusive to pre-menstrual women).  Cheerful Youngster will want to sing, and be sung with; cheerful Youngster will want to run, and show me things.  Cheerful Youngster will generate so much energy I wish I could bottle it.  Grumpy Youngster will throw a tantrum, requiring patience.  Grumpy Youngster will be rude, requiring appropriate response.  Grumpy Youngster will be unknowingly hurtful, requ...

I've had my psychologist postpone appointments for two weeks running.  It's left me feeling vulnerable.  The mental scabs were ripped off in the initial appointments, and the following visits were supposed to give me assistance in how to deal with this shit in a healthier way.  Every conversation, every interaction, while I'm still raw; has the potential to do damage - and this morning, I had to deal with an appointment applying for welfare.  Not.  Ideal. Being vulnerable is excruciating.  The ever present fear of rejection.  The fear of failure.  The risk of being hurt.  Without the cover of ingrained defensiveness, there's nothing to stop  the sky falling down! Today, chaos reigned.  I ended up playing family chauffeur, and spent more time than usual with my nephew, on top of dealing with an institution designed to make me feel lazy and useless.  I am shattered. Depressed.  Dehumanized.  Exhausted.  Oh, an...

It's been a weird week.  Along with my new normal state of 'low', I've had moments of ok.  Which is nice. I spent time WITH my family and friends this week.  I ventured out of my safety nest, sat on the sofa with actual people, AND, I even left the house to spend time with others.  To my astonishment, nothing awful happened!  I might do it again.  Not for a while though, I'm exhausted.  It's hard hanging on to the 'now' of being with people.  I kept having to remind myself to pay attention, to not drift off into nothingness. Concentrating on conversations which aren't necessarily essential, but are REAL; and so, valuable - takes a lot of energy.  Listening to a real person, engaging with them, responding, interacting, reacting, and speaking in turn, is considerably more difficult than say, watching a complicated documentary.  A documentary I can pause, rewind, re-watch, and it never requires my input.  It doesn't matter how m...