It’s been a couple days since I’ve written. I’ve been trying really hard to make it a habit to stay out of bed more and try to be more engaged in my family’s life. That should be a natural thing but when you’re depressed and anxious, at least in my case, my bed is my safe haven. It’s the only place I want to be.
The last couple days I’ve been to Target, the mall, and the grocery store. I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal under normal circumstances but this isn’t “normal” what I’m going through. Every morning I wake up and think, “here’s another day to make it through. Another day to prove to my family I’m not weak and I AM trying. Another day to survive.” It’s exhausting.
Today I did my hair and my makeup and actually felt pretty decent about myself. It was a nice change for once. I feel like some of my energy has started to come back so I feel like the medication is kicking in. I wish it was a quick fix but I can make it a few more weeks to get the full effect.
Yesterday, I made the decision to go out on the balcony for coffee with my mom. I quickly learned it wouldn’t be a chill morning on the balcony. The conversation quickly turned to me “trying my best to get out of bed. It’s not good for your body. It’s not good to not eat.” It’s not good in any way. At first I felt attacked because I felt like nobody was seeing what strides and progress I have made.
It may not seem like much but I’ve gone to coloring with my door open, coloring or reading in the living room, or watching movies with my family. At the time, I felt like none of that way being noticed and I got very defensive and hurt. I know my mom meant well and only the best for me but that was a hard conversation to have. Not only because I knew she was right but also because I had to stand up for myself, let her know what I was doing to get better, and let her know what I needed from her and the rest of my family. In the end that’s really just for people to support my recovery and realize the “little things” to them are “big things” to me and show I am trying.
I really do want to get better. I hate feeling the way I do. I wouldn’t wish depression or anxiety on my worst enemy. Having both is a curse and not one I want to bear.
Tomorrow I go to therapy for the first of three sessions this week. Therapy is always so exhausting and I want to come home and sleep every time. I never made that walk down to the beach so maybe that’ll be my “one thing” for tomorrow. Make a walk to the beach instead of to my bed. That’s exhausting to even think about but we’ll see how it goes.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings but I’m starting to see changes happening. In my mood, my behavior, and my motivation. They’re small changes but they’re mine. Like I said before, “baby steps.”