Crawling from the Rubble

I'm angry -- at myself. It's Sunday evening and I've wasted most of the weekend. I did complete two thirds of the online class I have to take; otherwise, I've done very little. It really does feel like I'm crushed under the weight of a ton of bricks, looking for a way up and out. This isn't a new thing for me. I've dealt with "low lows" for most of my life. This is the first time it's happened in a long time. For the most part, I think I've been dealing with depression by eating -- a lot. I don't want to sound whiny here, but rather I'm describing what it's like. I know there's stigma associated with depression, and even well-meaning people are apt to suggest the someone in the depths just "snap out of it." I do that to myself too, and I get frustrated when it doesn't work. Or I'll take a different approach and remind myself that I have no reason to be depressed, that I have so much going for me. Those things are true, but as I understand it, depression is a biochemical imbalance that won't go away because I (or anyone else) tries to tell it to.

One thing that helps me is the knowledge that it never lasts forever. I try to think of it the way I would think of any malady -- like a bad headache or a broken bone, for example. It's uncomfortable and there are some things I can do to alleviate the pain, but what works best is giving it time and being nice to myself in the meantime. The sun has finally come out (literally -- I'm not getting metaphorical) so I'm going to salvage the last of the day by taking a nice walk. After that, I'll make a healthy dinner and then probably go to sleep. I've been taking a two-hour nap every afternoon since Friday, something I don't do often. Maybe it's helping, maybe not. But it does help the time pass.