If you check my social media accounts, you'll see positive posts about a mother who loves her family, with nothing to indicate the true nature of the emotional roller coaster I've been riding over the past few weeks. I say, "Things get better every day." And I mean it. Because no matter how upset I am, no matter what I bitch about to my friends in private conversations, the fact remains that I am incredibly grateful for what I have. Yes, I want better. I've always wanted better. But the truth is, what I have is reasonable, for now.
There isn't a lot to get me down, anymore. I'm treating my depression daily. I socialize daily with multiple people--family, friends, acquaintances--and I am getting accustomed to exercising every day, though the means vary while I determine how I can work out with friends (two birds, one stone--socializing and exercising!) who have different schedules. I've really accomplished a great deal in a short amount of time. My accomplishments make me feel like I'm actually moving forward in my life and they give me confidence, knowing that I am in charge of all of my finances. I feel secure in the knowledge of what my bills are, how much they cost each month, and I am confident in my ability to manage future bills that come under my name.
Yet, the depression comes back. I suppose that is why they call it a disorder. I truly believe there is a chemical imbalance in my brain, but I've never been scanned or tested that way. Some of my friends on Facebook post a lot about their depression and how it effects them, how it prevents them from doing things. Now I know that most of that is bullshit, though I certainly bought into it over the past few years. However, that doesn't mean depression isn't persistent.
One friend, in particular, told me that when he was the most active, exercising regularly, he still wanted to kill himself. He still felt depressed and deeply unhappy. Some of the things he posts indicate that he uses the depression as a crutch, trying to make people believe that he cannot do things based on the depression he feels. From where I now sit, I know that is not true. He can accomplish things as long as he has support. Sure, the depression could come back. After all, I had a great day yesterday, really, and still the depression hit me with full force after everyone had gone to bed. While I waited for my bedsheets to dry, I found myself crying while folding clothes and text-bombing my gossip buddy about my feelings. Thankfully, he was there to respond, though he was at work.
My support is not exactly what I thought it should be. I'm staying with my grandparents, which is simultaneously supportive and restrictive. I have only so much time I can spend online each day; my grandmother insists that I accomplish tasks and prioritize according to what she thinks is most important; I can't just drive out to see my friends at any given time I feel like because, while I love my electric car and it does what I need, it does not get the range to keep going out all day and it doesn't charge as quickly as someone can fill a fuel tank.
However, I am free to leave almost at whim. I am free to go to the gym on base and work out, take care of my errands and important tasks independently, and use the Internet to update my blog and social media, albeit briefly each day. My family surrounds me and I have my daughter. She is the most important person in the world. She is the most important thing in the universe to me. She deserves the world; she deserves better than anything I've experienced. She deserves the kind of love I've only dreamed about due to lack of examples in my life. And she loves me. Nothing is better than her love, her hugs, cuddles, and kisses, and her sweet voice as she says, "Me wuv you, Mommy."
Finding the words for my blog this month has been difficult. A large part of me wants to sit here and bitch, like this is my private journal, where I write all of my nasty, private thoughts down so that I don't spew them at those undeserving. But the fact is, what I am working on now is how to better my own behavior and language. How can I stay on task and keep up on what I know I need to accomplish on a daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly basis?
Lists. Naturally, my grandmother recommends that I make a list for everything and have an alarm for the rest, since I have alarms set to keep me on track with Persephone's potty schedule. It works. She's had dry pull-ups for about three consecutive days with only poop accidents. She has yet to poop in the potty, but I know it will come. She makes me so proud every day, the way she sings songs we've been singing to her, she asks to go to the park, she eagerly brushes her teeth and pitter-patters off to bed each night (as long as she's not overly tired, in which case she fights tooth and nail like any small child). So far, making lists and setting alarms has worked for me. So, I'll continue with them and see how I can be as efficient as possible (after all, no one wants to hear a phone alarm go off every 5 minutes).
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