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wrestling with my brain
September 21, 2015
For me, very often an episode of depression doesn't manifest as sadness--its more "paralyzing lack of motivation". Which arrives hand-in-hand with negative feelings of self-worth.
I'm feeling kind of paralyzed lately. I have been fighting it, but I just am having a really hard time doing stuff the last few days. I've actually accomplished quite a bit, in the process of fighting the feeling, but I've given into it more than I like to admit.
Things I got done:
Picked up my glasses again, and hopefully for the last time. Talked to my dad. Gave the entire bathroom one hell of a cleaning. Ditto, the kitchen. Washed all the regular laundry, plus extra bleaching and throw-rug loads. Prepped and loaded a vintage illustration series to tumblr. Went to Wal-Mart and picked up some stuff I needed there. Did some baking (chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream frosting). Did some cooking (Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and scalloped corn on Friday, and Spouse and I worked together preparing Boeuf en Daube for Sunday dinner).
Pretty significant, considering I felt physically and emotionally horrible all weekend. And of course, we did all the usual errands and light housekeeping, yardwork, etc. To the casual outward eye, a perfectly respectable weekend.
But I feel like I was horribly lazy. All I can think about is the stuff I didn't get done. And weirdly, most of it was stuff I actually enjoy: pen-related stuff. Cleaning, filling, and organizing my pens, working on cleaning out the dresser for pen storage. Blogging about pens. Actually picking one up and writing with it! Went to work this morning with a full pen-roll...of empty pens! 6 out of seven were dry or close to it. I'm glad I had my Kultur in there; I keep a pack of Waterman cartridges in my desk for emergencies! (Did my maintenance faithfully tonight, you'd better believe!)
So anyway. Of course, my mind pole-vaults to the conclusion that I totally don't deserve to have pens, if I won't take care of them. Oh, yes, fuckbrain. By all means, send me straight to hell for the one weekend where I didn't manage to get a buttload of housework AND my pens in. Flush my opinion of myself right down the toilet. (Oh, yeah--speaking of the toilet--did I mention that I also spent most of the weekend dealing with a nasty IBS flare?)
But you know what? Even if I had done some pen-related stuff, there would have been something else that I didn't get done. Something to feel guilty and inadequate about. I know me. I know this effed-up brain of mine.
So what's the point of all this? Trying to create a delicate balance between cutting myself some slack, recognizing my own accomplishments, and keeping my standards up in the face of depression. Fighting, instead of rolling over. And writing through it, I guess. I suppose it helps.
So anyway. Friday, as I said, I went to pick up my glasses--having gotten a voicemail from Costco on Thursday night, saying they were ready.
They were not ready.
The store sent them to the lab for new lenses. The lab sent back the lenses. No Frames.
Sweet guinea pig of Winnipeg! You have GOT to be KIDDING!
The store manager wasn't any happier than I was. She walked over to the wall, pulled the display pair down, popped in the new lenses, and fitted them to my face. Finally.
And even though this was all a huge pain in the arse, I do have to admit that I'm thankful for the crazed lenses debacle. Because I realized something after she put them on my face Friday--there was one more screw-up in there somewhere. Because the second pair of lenses NOT made according to the second prescription. They were made to the first prescription. THIS pair is correct. You can tell just by looking at them that they are completely different. No WONDER I couldn't get used to them. No WONDER I had to wear my old ones to look at the computer!
So, after 12 weeks, and two eye exams, and three pairs of lenses, and three pairs of frames...I finally have servicable glasses. And, I might add--the positively last pair of glasses I will ever buy from Costco Optical.
And once I got that done, and ran to the supermarket to get the stuff I needed to make the dinner Spouse had specially requested, I got home about 12:20 in the afternoon. Slipped out of my clothes & into a comfie cotton nightie, let the dog out, then started to make myself a sandwich for lunch. I was looking forward to my lovely, solitary Friday afternoon.
At 12:30, Spouse walked in.
He came home sick, boo hoo. I confess: he didn't get the greeting he was hoping for.
And after he announced that he was sick, demanded I make him JellO, informed me that he still expected me to make his special dinner for him, and went to bed, I was really resenting him.
But. Finished my turkey sandwich, ate it, made his damned gelatin, and curled up in bed for a read and a nap. I woke up feeling much better. I fed the dog, made a meatloaf, mixed up a pan of scalloped corn, got a pot of potatoes peeled and set to cook, and cleaned up all of the prep mess. He got his dinner--although I made him mash the potatoes. He headed back to bed after he ate, and I just read and fiddled around on the computer until I was tired enough to go to sleep.
He must have been feeling better on Saturday, because he was up and making cinnamon rolls & coffee at 7:00. I'd been up since 5:30, feeling rather yucky, but getting some household chores done. I cleaned the whole bathroom except for the shower/tub, then we went out and did our usual errands & shopping. Came home, put stuff away, baked a cake, and worked on the laundry, finally crashing for a nap at about 2:00.
When I woke up, it was to find that Spouse had changed his mind about making dinner, and was just going to order a pizza. I was still feeling yucky, but it wasn't worth fighting about, so I said that was fine. And it was. Until the middle of the night, when I was up every hour or so being sick.
Sunday was a go nowhere day; I did more housework, in-between trips to the bathroom. He did yardwork out front, and after he came in and showered, I finished the bathroom by scrubbing down the shower and tub with Lysol cleaner. While I was in there, I took my shower, and for both of us, the rest of the day was devoted to chilling out. We did dinner together--made the Boeuf en Daube he'd originally planned for Saturday. I peeled and chopped vegetables for the mirepoix and the actual veggies in the dish, and did the cleanup from the prep. He handled everything else for the stew. I did whip a batch of biscuits into the oven at dinnertime, though. It was awfully heavy and rich, considering my state of health, but it was insanely delicious. After I cleaned up the kitchen, we watched some stuff we had in the DVR, then Spouse hit the mattress and I got stuff ready for Monday.
PS—I found out what hubby is getting me for my birthday. A new car stereo for the Buick. One that will let me play music from my phone or mp3 player, is Bluetooth-equipped, compatible with Pandora and IHeartRadio apps, has a USB port so I can plug in a thumb drive, and still has a CD player. And he's having it professionally installed, so it will fit right and be hooked up properly to the OnStar buttons and the steering wheel controls. OUTSTANDING.
And if it was purely a gift from him to me, I would say it was surprising. But it isn’t, of course. He wants it for reasons of his own, and one of those reasons is that there is a particular album he wants, which is very rare on CD, but quite affordable to download. He’s so cute.
Déjà vu. Reminds me of the time when he really wanted the movie “Hollywood Knights”, but it wasn’t released on VHS—only on DVD. Guess what we ended up buying?
But hey—it's not like it's a bowling ball named "Homer". I will be enjoying the holy living hell out of it, so no complaints here. And there is no reason why we can’t have a nice mutual birthday present that we both really enjoy. It's being installed Saturday, so we will have it in time for our trip up north. I'm really looking forward to having a modern unit, and not being tied to CDs.
READING:
"Set in Silver" (1909), by C.N. & A.M. Williamson (a re-read)
LISTENING:
Cage the Elephant, Kings of Leon, Blind Melon, Vance Joy
INKED UP:
Out of necessity, the Waterman Phileas Kultur, with a cartridge of Waterman Serenity Blue. Once I got my pen housekeeping finished, I ended up with Pelikan 4001 in several pens: Turquoise in the Nemosine, Brilliant Brown--as usual--in the Conklin, Brilliant Green in the Parker (I got tired of trying to use up that horrid Quink, so I flushed the remainder out of the cartridge & refilled it). Plus Binder Burgundy (with an extra dash of red) in my red Skilcraft, and a top-up of Waterman Tender Purple in the Sheaffer 100. And because I had an empty slot left, I stuck one of my Pilot Varsity pens (the pink one) in my case, as well. I really wish I could buy a bottle of that pink ink, I just love it.
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