Tuesday, October 21, 2008

If you're having a bad day, this might not be the place for you.

How about a little honesty, anybody wanna play? My weekend sucked. Yep. Really, really, a lot. I haven’t posted anything for a few days because I’ve been feeling a little sad and weepy. By a little I mean, well, a lot. That is not to say that I haven’t written anything for a few days, let me assure you, if I am having emotions of any kind, I write. It’s just not always the sort of thing I want to post here in the sanctuary of my own private blog.

Friday was grocery day. For me that means two different grocery stores, plus Target, and Costco. My husband is STILL home with his back injury, it seems to be getting better, it’s just taking a long time. On Friday he was not feeling well enough to work, but he was feeling well enough to tag along with me as I ran errands. He’s not a good shopper. It makes him cranky on a good day, imagine two grocery stores, Target and Costco, all the Vicodin in town couldn’t make him enjoy that route. I tried to convince him to stay home but he insisted that he needed to get out of the house. I’m sure he did, unfortunately by the end of the day his crankiness had rubbed off on me, and I haven’t been able to shake it.

Saturday was worse. Our dog has a tumor, the kind that is going to make her die. There is nothing to be done but wait. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain, and she can still walk around, go outside, eat, all the important dog stuff, but the end is near and I can hardly walk by her without tearing up.

There’s more, but I have some dignity so I won’t post it all here. Let’s just say, when it rains it pours, you know?
We used to have this quilt. It was ugly. The top squares were all cut from the same kind of polyester my granny’s pants are made of and the bottom was some kind of sturdy canvas. I don’t know what the batting was but it was heavy. We called it the lead blanket. For years we took it on camping trips or used it to line the trunk of the car, it was solid.  If an arctic cold front had blown in, the lead blanket would have come in handy.

Lately I feel like I am wrapped in it all the time, or like I am wearing a suit lined with a  thick layer of warm sand.

For as long as I can remember I have fought against her; my arch enemy, depression. Since I was a young girl we have known one another.  I can see her coming from a mile away, I convince myself her visit will be short and I can fight her off. Sometimes I can and I do, other times I am not so lucky. For the past couple of months I have been getting post cards from her, sometimes she's been out in my yard hanging around, but this weekend she came right in the front door, without ringing the bell, she's rude like that.

Having her here now, when I have all this crap going on is scaring me. What if I can’t get rid of her? Also, I don’t have time to be depressed and if you’ve ever been depressed you know it can be very time consuming. All of the sitting around staring at nothing, thinking about all of the stuff you ought to doing. It’s exhausting.

Anyway, don’t feel sorry for me, I’ll get over it. Either on my own, or if that doesn’t work, in a week or two I’ll call up my doctor and get me some Prozac. I’ve hosted my pal depression enough times to know if I am going to be able to get rid of her on my own, or if I am going to have to call the sheriff to evict her.

Thanks for listening. I know that this is going to be one of those posts that makes me feel nauseous as I click the publish button, but just having this saved as a draft isn’t therapeutic enough for me. I don’t know if that makes any sense, I’m not sure I get it, but for some reason it’s helpful for me to “get it out there”.


Cheryle said...

Saying something out loud (or in print in a blog!) is very therapeutic. It always seems to take a bit of the weight away when you share the burden of your troubles.

Please don't take too long to get going on the Prozac if you need it because it does take a while to kick in, as I'm sure you know.

Becky said...

I'm not sorry for you, but I do wish I could say just the right thing so that your old pal would pack her bags and leave. It doesn't work that way, though, does it?

I've never needed medication, but I can sure see the dark cloud coming on before it settles over my head for a while.

sue q said...

Forgive me, but I can't help but chuckle at the lead blanket. I have one of those, made by an endearing, old aunt whose intentions are always admirable, but whose corners never matched. Her quilt will outlast us to the millenium.

There are days that the best we can expect is to just keep breathing. And deeply. And then we blog about it, and go on with our life.

Breathe on, my friend!

Alyson (New England Living) said...

I know how you feel! Do what you got to do because that nasty depression has a way of outstaying her welcome (well, I guess there never was a welcome, was there?).