These are long dog-tired days for me. I have yet to shed the low feelings of last week. But this ~
~ this makes me feel a little better at the end of the day. Little N chose this park for his after-we-pick-up-mommy play time last night. Instead of resuming my yoga practice, I came along, grateful for the sunshine, salty air, and good company of my guys. And so, there is hope.
That hope seems out of reach today, back in the office, where there are expectations of performance that I don't feel like I can meet. Reasonable expectations that still appear beyond my ability for today. I limp along under heavy feelings and a foggy mind. Every sound distracts and upsets me, reasonable office conversations, the pitter-patter of fingers on keyboard, the shuffle of feet on the carpeted floor. I want to walk out of the office and be alone. I want to sit still, cover my ears, cry.
I daydream about what would heal me. A proper vacation, probably alone but maybe with my guys for part of it. Slow motion days of sunshine, surf, and lots of fruit. A hammock. A cool dark room. A day (a week?!) of being taken care of more than taking care of others and stuff.
But I sit up straight and pretend to be working. This workday will end in a couple of hours and then I'll go to the psychiatrist's office and talk it all out. Maybe my meds need to be adjusted. Maybe I just need to talk. Maybe I'll feel well someday.
Well enough to do good work more days than not. To hold off on the binges that don't comfort me the way I imagine that they will. To sit still at my desk and accomplish tasks amidst the sounds and distractions of reasonable office mates. To live a happy, healthy lifestyle.
I keep going back to Caitlin Marcoux. Her photos inspire me to live more healthfully and to plan and maintain healthy routines to manage my depression, similar to the way that she is navigating her cancer. It's probably unfair to say that depression is my "cancer" (metaphorically), but today unfair is also true. Depression is taking my life away from me, taking me away from my family and friends. I need to beat it. I need to live well despite it. I need to hear a lesson in it and then grow and thrive anyway.
Caitlin posted two quotes in the last week that are bees in my bonnet. Humming. Stinging. Distracting me.
"What I need for healing is already present in my system."~Leslie Kaminoff
"No one can listen to your body for you.
To grow and heal you have to take responsibility for listening to yourself."~Jon Kabat-Zinn
Could these possibly be true for depression too? Is there some healing available in my system (my body? my family? my spirit? my friendships?)? If I listen to my body will it lead me in healing this? is that what Dr. L means when she tells me to "go inside?" I'm so tired. My listening to myself is muddy with doubt, despair, fatigue. Surely there's yet a still small voice of insight waiting for me to hear it and be healed.