The thing about depression, in case you don't know ( but we blog for writers, so of course you know) is that some days it feels like there's a monster who wraps his tentacles around me and pulls me down the drain of a very deep pool. I call this deep ending. You're welcome to share my terminology.
READ A BOOK!
My choice this Deep End, was Howl's Moving Castle (Thanks Karen for the heads up on the price!) LINK!
I liked it fine. I'm deep ending so I'll have to reread it when my feet can reach bottom so I can really enjoy it, but all in all, it's good. I kept thinking Howl should be played by Benedict Cumberbatch one day. They both have an obnoxious slightly disdainful lovability to them, like they are a challenge, and a heartbreak waiting to happen, but maybe possibly they just need a strong willed young girl hiding behind a grown up's face to tame them.
I volunteer as tribute.
I have a 14 oz bag of skittles on my bed right now, and I've eaten most of it today. I've eaten so much candy that my mouth hurts, and I no longer enjoy the taste of sugar, but it's a thing I'm doing, and I have this theory that if I get to the bottom of the bag I won't be sad anymore. This is a crap theory, but I'm clinging to it. I'm deep ending people, don't judge me. The problem with having candy near me, is that it keeps bringing the little people who call me Mom near me, and I'm not sharing my candy with you people. I'm keeping it. All of it. It a sad swirling hole at the bottom of my stomach. It's here to make me feel sick. That's what it's there for so I can feel something. i.e. sick.
This is possibly steps away from a food disorder, but to my twisted brain, I wonder if I eat so much candy it makes me puke, then possibly the little people, or people in general, will buy that I'm actually sick, and therefore leave me alone.
Depression is a kind of sick.
But explain that to a three year-old with a stinky diaper.
TALKING TO PEOPLE!
It's my Birthday today. Yay. Yup, I'm spending the birthday in the deep end of depression. This isn't fun for these three reasons.
- 1. People call you. Both my sisters have called me, and expected me to talk back with them, and I'm in the deep end, with my book and a half full bag of candy saying... not what I'm thinking, (go away) but... "Thank you for reaching out to me on my Birthday."
It does make me feel loved. It does make me feel less like I'm drowning at the bottom of a pool, and more like I'm treading water with my sisters and my friends next to me, and maybe there are streamers hiding behind the candy, and there will be pizza and ice cream and cake, and you can't be sad when you are in a POOL PARTY!
The thing about depression is that, for me at least, it makes me want to keep everyone away. I want to be by myself, but at the same time, I want desperately to know that people love me. So I'm rude, but I want you to stay.
- 2. Expectations. I'm a weird twisted person and I take things as omens when they happen on my birthday, and that's weird, so I'm not doing that anymore, but this is not the way I wanted to spend the first day of my thirty first year. I'm having a hard time remembering that the deep end kind of days don't happen every day, and that I can fully function again, possibly, someday. When it's on my birthday I have this weird thought that it's going to follow me around all year long, like a curse. There is something wrong with my brain.
- 3. I'm worried I'm being mean to my family by not showing up for my birthday, and by not show up, I mean hide in my room eating all the candy, reading my book by myself. I will walk downstairs when the pizza gets here. But until then, I'm sad and I feel guilty for not making MY birthday a bigger day for my kids, followed closely by being annoyed that it's MY Birthday, so I'll spend it however I'd like. Yes, it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to, Children.
NOT TRYING TO FIX THE FORMATTING ON BLOG POSTS!
This video makes me giddy, and reaches deep down to the deep end of my depression to make me giggle.
They've gone for it. They are not holding back. And I really appreciate all this effort they are expelling on my day of doing nothing but reading and eating enough candy it makes me sick.
GOING TO THE DMV!
So you are deep ending in depression on your Birthday, and you kind feel you might throw up, because all you've eaten today was microwaved eggs and a 14 oz. bag of Skittles, and it's your BIRTHDAY?! You know what you REALLY need to do today? GO to the DMV to get that driver's licence of yours renewed! Otherwise you may never drive again, and that might be okay, because staying in a room and hiding sounds like a life plan today, and there is nothing in my life plan today that includes needing to drive, so SUCK IT DMV.
No, actually, that's the sickness talking, so instead, I'm going to track down my three year old, find the wipes, change the diaper. Then I'll load all three kids in my minivan, and drive to the DMV, and pay the fee and show them my birth certificate and smile at the camera. And then, every day after this one, I will look at that picture on my ID and see the film of skittles shining on my teeth, the tracks in my makeup, and my I-just-lay-in-bed-all-day-today hair, and will remember that I can do hard things, and that I am stronger than my poisoned brain.
But first I might check out Pintrest for a while.
Happy swimming, people.