I could have easily crawled in bed at six o’clock today – after getting up at half past eight and waking up from a nap at half past two – but it turns out I’m actually sick! I rather thought that I was just adjusting to being solely on Lexapro,
or simply being lazy but it turns out severe fatigue with related headaches and stomach issues is actually a thing that’s going around. I’m not just lazy!
That was a huge relief, because on Monday I didn’t wanna leave the house (hence all the rescheduling) and by Wednesday I could’ve easily slept straight through for a couple of days. Thankfully as of … Friday? I started taking proper cold medicine and I’m feeling greatly improved. It’s amazing what happens when I stop beating myself up and start giving my body what it needs.
I hope to be back in fighting form by the end of this week.
If not there may be some goats sacrificed to Eir … or cats, whatever’s handy. I’ve missed having my usual energy and I’m starting to freak out, because February is almost gone. All that will be left soon is March, and I intended to be so, so much further along in my writing before the end of round one.
Part of me knows shit happens, that there’s been a lot of upheaval both medically, personally and generally health-wise in the new year. But as much as I try to be gentle on myself, there’s still that voice screaming in my head that I should have done more, pushed harder, made more sacrifices and gotten ahead, ahead, ahead.
There are times, like right now when I didn’t even accomplish a third of my stated weekly goal, that The Voice is screaming like a banshee in my brain, at the highest possible volume. Part of me wants to coward in a corner and listen to that internal tape that says I’m an unaccomplished loser, and the other part wants to shove a gag in her mouth, stuff her in a closet and play video games until I feel like crawling in bed.
But my nephew said something that really hit me square in the solar plexus this when; we were enjoying some time together playing Disney Infinity and I mentioned something about playing again the next morning before guitar practice, and then he broke my heart.
If You’re Awake …
You see, my anxiety and depression have two major symptoms: constant sleeping and anger. I’m typically not the person in the antidepressant commercial gazing out the rainy window longingly or crying at the drop of the hat. I get angry, tired, withdrawn and did I mention tired? I’ve always been a night-owl but I usually manage two or three in the morning and can be up by eleven fairly easily, but when I’m depressed? I’m too tired to do anything.
And the fact that he could see that, even if he doesn’t understand it? Shatters me. He’s my baby. He along with my younger sister and his three siblings are the stars of my world, and the only thing I want them to think of when they think of “Aunt Jessie” is that I love them all without possible measure. If they also think I have cool techie shit and that I’m their favorite aunt, I will not complain. 😀
It’ll only be a few more years and he’ll be a man, he might not want to hang out with his auntie or play video games or share his Minecraft worlds with me. I hope he does, but there are no promises. I don’t want to wait these precious years asleep.
I have no idea if he understands depression – or even knows what it is – but when I see him again I plan to pull him into my lap and have a little chat. Just to explain that Aunt Jessie is fighting a battle with an invisible villain, and some days are better than others. I want him to know that regardless of where I am in that fight he is always always loved. More than anything. More than a goal, more than words on a paper, more than a critical voice in my head.
When that voice in my head gets louder and louder about how I’m not good enough, how I’m not a writer, how I’ll never finish a book … I just look at that list. That one under the link that reminds me how Bamm and I high-fived, laughed and screeched with delight as we rescued classic Disney characters in Infinity. How we sat at the kitchen table playing cards for hours with his brand-new guitar deck that he earned at lessons.
How he said that the King cards “liked” his little sister so much because “she’s so beautiful they want her to be their Queen”. I think of how I spent time laying in bed, watching them game and cuddling with my little bean pole, or how my wee little bird sat on my lap on the hallway floor with me this morning, cuddling me because he wanted to stay.
And that voice in my head can go fuck herself. Because those moments, those hugs and smiles and cuddles and laughter are worth all the words in the world.
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