Exploring Mt. Everest in slippers.

Vague: (adj)  thinking or communicating in an unfocused or imprecise way. I've had a vague week.  So much so, I had to write this week's entry in bits. I can't think clearly.  I know lots of words and can't remember them to describe things.  The word 'um' is being used a lot.  I don't like the word um.  Struggling to find words is not who I am.  Except on vague days. My brain is slow.  I drift off.  My concentration is almost non-existent.  I'm not even thinking.  Me.  Who has an internal monologue that's usually ...fuckitall, there's a word... going all the time.... there's a word that means that.... dammit. Lots of pauses to find words.  Remember what I'm reading.  Focus on what I'm typing.  Focus is hard.  I've got an audio book on (The Martian - if you're interested), and I've replayed almost every chapter this week, because it's not being heard.  I can't even listening properly. My computer ...

Feeling good and feeling better are very different things. This week I had an epiphany.  Self care isn't about making myself feel good.  It's not about eating the things that are delicious, it's not about watching the movies I know will make me smile, and it's not about saving up for a whiskey. It's about making myself better.  It's making sure that when I make a meal, I include vegetables, it's drinking water instead of juice, it's making sleep a priority, and it's leaving the house to do more than non-interactive grocery shopping. Self care isn't easy.  When the Depression is busy trying to convince me I'm not worth the effort, putting a healthy meal together is a mammoth effort.  Putting together ANY meal is a mountain to climb.  This week I managed once, and I managed to convince myself that because it was already difficult, making veges too wouldn't make it any harder.  It didn't, and I ate all of it.  I even felt satisfaction th...

It's been a difficult week for me.  I went to see my Doctor, as my prescriptions needed to be renewed.  My Doctor has been an anchor for the last couple of years, most notably, when the suicidal thoughts were strongest, he would randomly call, to make sure I was hanging on.  'Just doing his job' you say, and yes, he is.   I'll add this.  All doctors see to the health and well-being of their patients.  All doctors do their jobs to the best of their abilities.  All doctors are people too.  Which means doctors, like teachers, like family, have individuality and are people you either click with or don't. I trust my doctor.  I am utterly honest with him.  I tell him that I know I should  exercise, that I always mean  to, but that I don't.  I admit that sometimes I drink booze instead of eat vegetables.  In return, he rolls his eyes at me, and reminds me I know better, that when I do those things, I'm letting m...

Not feeling it this week.  The positive 'self-talk', the silver linings, or the conscious realignment.  It's fucking hard work, constantly correcting the way I think.  Every single fucking thing I do, takes a ridiculous amount of effort.  I don't feel like telling myself well done for doing my laundry (so what?! everyone does laundry!), the fact it's been building up for weeks, and I ran out of clean t-shirts 4 days ago, doesn't change the fact that it's only bloody laundry.  Thanks to the industrial revolution, I don't have to do anything but take my things to a machine, and push some buttons.  Whoop-di-bloody-doo.  I don't want to celebrate doing it. I haven't vacuumed since I moved in.  In October.  The shared hoover is downstairs, and this space is about 8 x 3 paces square.  It should take me all of a few minutes.  When I finally get around to it, I don't deserve praise.  I haven't done my dishes in a while either....

One of the things I've spoken to my counselor about; is what I DO with my days.  It's not a lot.  It's struggling to get out of bed.  It's finding the motivation to eat something that has some nutritional value.  Time spent trying to find focus to achieve something, anything.  Chapters of books, instead of whole ones.  Small puzzles instead of massive ones.  Amassing enough oomph to go and buy milk.   And lately?  While listening to classical music. Music is profound.  There's a reason you don't play dirges at weddings, the William Tell Overture at funerals, or waltzes at the gym.  Music is an emotional shortcut (this is why movies have soundtracks after all), it signals the appropriate mood for the moment.  Toddlers are the best examples of how music can hot-wire your brain.  Ever seen one stop in the middle of a room when a lively song is heard, and boogie on down?  I've discovered over the last few m...

This week I had a new round of funding come through for counseling, and was able to get another professional viewpoint on what my brain is doing. Counseling is an odd thing.  I rarely come out 'knowing' something new, yet every time I leave, it's with new insight and understanding. This week, we discussed my inability to take in new things.  For the last several years, I haven't been able to concentrate on anything I'm not already familiar with.  I struggle to do more than skim the surface on anything that needs to establish new neural pathways.  This is one of the 'classic' signs of Depression.  Which has left me with an entertainment world full of 're-runs'. This isn't a new thing for me.  Looking back, I frequently would get to points where I struggled with new things, and my bookshelves showed the proof of my retreat, between the shiny new spines and creamy new pages of exciting new authors, there were the cracked spines proving innumerab...

One of the things I've learned in the last few years is that I take up space in other people's hearts.  On my particularly bad days, I have to remind myself that other people CHOSE to give me space there, and that they don't want me to vanish.  Fun Fact: Taking up space is all I do.  I'm an extra in other people's lives.  Most people are a lead character in the show of their lives, for some it's a drama, others a veritable sit-com, some are massive ensemble casts, and others are more intimate affairs, but most people have significant roles to play; they're integral to the show of their lives, and most people find satisfaction in it.  I'm a bit player nowadays.  I show up in other people's shows.  I'm the slightly dotty aunt, the tired sister, the online chat at 3am, the lady on the train, the woman in the waiting room, and sometimes I get to be the haven't-seen-you-in-ages old friend.  Lately I've been struggling to even be an extra...