I do not suffer from "depression" in the manic classic sense of the word. Never have...and had a REALLY hard time understanding it when I realized how many people in my life suffer from it chronically.
BUT, these past couple of weeks I have been DRAGGING. As in...don't want to get out of bed, exhausted - but not sleeping well, cranky, unmotivated (eeeek! you should see my house) and just basically in a FUNK.
And then a few days ago as I was IM chatting with John I said to him, "I think I'm depressed." Jokingly. And then I realized. Holy cow. I AM depressed.
I miss my husband
I had a leaky sink
I couldn't get the new showerhead on by myself.
My baby is two
I have too much STUFF in my house and nowhere to put it.
Holidays are here and they are just a tad lonely
I worry about my mom (who is getting hip replacement surgery TODAY.)
I worry about my madmad...and her little moods
I don't want to sweep any more leaves off the front stoop.
I look outside and all I see is rain...or this morning it was snow.
Cooking has essentially been opening a can for the last couple of weeks.
I burst into tears when I leave Bella in daycare because I know she's just going to cry for the next hour until I pick her back up. (separation anxiety is just as bad for me...)
Plus, I still need to get her vaccination shots and it makes me tear up every time I think about her getting those needles in the leg.
AND...last but not least, I hate putting folded laundry away and you should see the pile of it that I am dreading...
I have become SUCH a softie. I used to be able to write out a to do list and tadum! It all got done. Not now...now I am wallowing. But wallowing makes me feel unproductive which for me is a bad way to feel.
Ok... so that was good for me to wallow just a little more...and now I'm done feeling sorry for myself and tomorrow...after I try for a full 7 hours of sleep...tomorrow I will write out my to do list and get it done.