It is now after 2:00 PM. I had planned my day to go to the gym first to do a little cardio, then head to the store for much needed groceries and then return home to clean, do laundry and put up decorations. That was at 8:00 AM. What have I done for over six hours? Not sure. I did talk with a friend as she thought she would have to put her dog to sleep. I offered to go to the vet with her both as support and to pay (Her husband is out of work and they are struggling to pay bills. I did not want them to make a decision on the dog based on inability to pay). She declined both saying her whole family was going (husband and daughters) and that the vet knew their situation. She’d let me know if they needed help. She really appreciated the offer of financial assistance, but thought they could handle this one. Little does she know, I really needed the reason to get me going, get me out of the house. I won’t leave unless there is a fire, so to speak. Danger gets me going. Sure there is danger, my mental health, but I do not sense it or its gravity. I know what I should do, but I do not do it. They did not put the dog to sleep; the vet said to try some medications to help her move more without pain. My friend promised to ask me for help if they need it.
What else? I mended a basket with a split slat (is that what the wooden things are called that are woven?), I cleaned some more baskets and returned them to their places, folded a few clothes, put on another load of laundry, ate some stuff I should not have (cookies, cheese grits – it is not that I should not have eaten them, it is that I did not plan on it. I had planned to have just protein drinks today. Maybe I can have then for the rest of the day) Not sure what else other than I went back to bed for a nap. I finally hooked up with an old group of friends online and chatted a bit. Again, not sure where the day went.
I am having a lot of negative self talk. I also have a lot of negative fantasies. Not just suicide ideation, but truly leaving my husband (why would I leave a gem like him? Crazy!) leaving my therapist and ditching the meds and psychiatrist. Just walking out and running away. Doubt I’d last very long. I need the comfort of home, my depression (yes it is a comfort as it is “the known”) family and friends. And I have to admit I need my meds.
I suppose I am like the character in The Shawshank Redemption who could not handle getting out of prison. If my depression is my (one of my) prison, what is keeping me here? Maybe I do not want to leave. Maybe I would be too uncomfortable out in the “Happy World”. This is actually an epiphany as I write. I am afraid of living. I am afraid of making mistakes so I do nothing. (Which, duh, is a mistake in itself). So, here I go… I am leaving now to go to the gym… then the store. Ask me later if I made it.