So, my depression has found new ways to be insidious. Since my last medication adjustment in December, I’ve found I feel happier, laugh more, and have fewer “down” days. I also have more desire to do things.
This can be as simple as taking a shower or getting food, or it can be larger, like replying to emails or finishing a paper. I have the tools I need for all of these, I usually even have a plan.
But then, so does my depression. I set my mind to do something, and then…I don’t. I know what I want or need to do, I have my first step, and then…
…my mind is a war with itself. I want to do the thing, I really do, but my depression tells me that it is impossible to do the thing, and my body follows the cue from the depression. And the thing, no matter how simple, how necessary, is impossible.
The really sneaky part is that it doesn’t feel like depression. I’m usually still in a good mood, but I simply can’t do the things I want. And then I start in on myself for being lazy, for being immature, for being irresponsible. And I start to feel worse about myself.
And that is how the depression wins the round. Transforming me from a good-mood with a can-do attitude, to berating myself for NOT doing.
And it sucks. The really awful part is that, sometimes, even though I recognize what is happening, even though I know the task is not impossible, I can’t seem to get around the wall that depression has locked me behind. I’m stuck, staring at the stones, feeling hopeless.
I’m trying to make it easier for myself, to break the tasks I’m handling into even smaller chunks, too small to be impossible, but that only goes so far. I’m also trying to start tasks when I think of them, and not give my mind a chance to become my enemy. And, as always, acknowledging that my mind is lying to me is the first step.