A Pattern. A Problem?

Thinking about writing and the dark cloud lifting, I notice a pattern. No blog posts between October 2011 and February 2012, and more recently, no blog posts between October 2012 and March 2013. I do remember thinking about writing and wondering if anyone would want to read about my aha moment, when I realized that seeing the days stretching out ahead of me and feeling I was going through the motions, looking for joy but really just waiting to die, that this could possibly be the same thing as being “depressed.” In the time it took to think all that, less time than it took to write it out just now, I had decided that, nah, even if people would feel like reading it, I didn’t feel like writing it.

Plus, I was worried. If I wrote about being depressed, or how I really feel, what if someone from the school district got hold of it and used it to blame me for my son’s disabilities, and then tried to take his therapeutic placement away. What if they knew how little emotional reserves I have, and took advantage of that to ramp up the campaign to get my son back in a program in our home district, where it will cost less. Much, much less. Or what if one of my children read it and it hurt their feelings, so deeply that they could never recover, and would spend the rest of their lives estranged from me, even just the tiniest bit alienated in affection? That would be awful.

It felt like the dark days were almost over, at least for now.  Then the storm came.  Being inside with the sound of the television bouncing off the walls of our tiny house, this feels unbearable.  Then I look at the murals my husband painted in the dining room, and the penciled outlines for the kitchen mural I am planning, and I think, maybe I would feel better if I did something creative.  I think I taped those paint sample strips on the wall back in the fall.  How did all that time go by?

I could paint, or I could get out my sewing machine and make that weighted blanket.  But I would have to clear off the table, and that would take more energy than I have.  In fact, I don’t have any energy right now.  I feel like taking a nap.  But that seems scary, like I am old — old people nap — or maybe I am…depressed…so depressed that I need to sleep too much.  I feel swear words swirling around as if my head were a hollow can and the swear words were bits of gravel.  They want to fall but the can keeps spinning around so they go around and around.

Can’t I even take a nap without condemning or doubting myself?  That would make me really mad if I had any emotional energy at all.  Maybe this is the beginning of feeling better.  Surely I have not felt this bad for months on end.  I think I have felt better from time to time.  That must be so, because I don’t see how I could possibly go on and on feeling like this.  Now I’m sure of it.  I’m just having a bad day.  I actually have gotten a lot done today, and it’s okay to take a little nap.  I think I will find the cat and persuade her to take a nap with me.  Feeling her soft fur under my hand and hearing her purring on top of the quilt, next to me, always makes me smile.

March 7, 2013. Tags: , , , , , . Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

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