I am having blog deja vu. I am fairly certain I have used the above blog title at least once before. I wish I were actually singing, "Here comes the sun doot'n-doo doo... it's alright..." but I am still waiting for the sun. As I sit here on March 18th, the sky is white and the snow is falling rather confidently outside my window. Much like the fearsome Honey Badger, Michigan don't care that the first day of spring is two days away.
I have struggled this winter. I have been very tired and lethargic and blah. I have slept quite a bit, often unintentionally in the middle of the day. On many days in February my bed seemed to magnetically draw me back to it after I had shuffled my older kids out to the school bus. Lili, my three year old, would sit beside me watching Sesame Street, and when the show ended with Trash Gordon reminding everyone about the letter and number of the day, she would shake me violently and scream, "MOM! You HAVE TO GET UP NOW!" I'd be groggy and unresponsive, but I'd eventually drag myself to an upright position. For the rest of the morning, I'd hate myself just a little bit. And since I was in the self-loathing zone, I'd eat chocolate and avoid doing laundry at all costs.
On most evenings, I'd wander about the house with an ugly brown blanket draped over my shoulders like a heavy, leaden cape. Often I'd scoop a child into the blanket with me and we'd cocoon up in bed or on the sofa where I'd moan about all of the things that I should be doing. Of course if you saw me out at the Meijer, you'd might never know I was struggling so. I'd smile and ask about your momma while I paused in the midst of browsing and wondering where I left my shopping list.
Now the days are starting to get longer, and on sunny days, you are sure to find me taking a few minutes to bask in the fabulous sunny spot that is my three year old's new big girl bed. Sunny days are coming, but I am feeling defeated about the fact that I didn't beat my winter blues again this year. Whatever. Don't try to encourage me. All you need to say is, "That's rough, Honey," because it is. I don't want to hear about how blessed I am. I KNOW this. I love my family and my husband and my home and my lovely life. Depression doesn't simply mean that I am failing to acknowledge all of the wonderful things in my life. Often I look around at all of these things; I breathe in their wonderfulness, and I wish I could wake up and care more.
For me being depressed does not coincide with being unhappy. I certainly experience many moments of joy and grace and gut-busting laughter all through the winter, but mostly I am sleepy and very low on energy.
Spring is coming, and I will tackle the beast again next year,
I have struggled this winter. I have been very tired and lethargic and blah. I have slept quite a bit, often unintentionally in the middle of the day. On many days in February my bed seemed to magnetically draw me back to it after I had shuffled my older kids out to the school bus. Lili, my three year old, would sit beside me watching Sesame Street, and when the show ended with Trash Gordon reminding everyone about the letter and number of the day, she would shake me violently and scream, "MOM! You HAVE TO GET UP NOW!" I'd be groggy and unresponsive, but I'd eventually drag myself to an upright position. For the rest of the morning, I'd hate myself just a little bit. And since I was in the self-loathing zone, I'd eat chocolate and avoid doing laundry at all costs.
On most evenings, I'd wander about the house with an ugly brown blanket draped over my shoulders like a heavy, leaden cape. Often I'd scoop a child into the blanket with me and we'd cocoon up in bed or on the sofa where I'd moan about all of the things that I should be doing. Of course if you saw me out at the Meijer, you'd might never know I was struggling so. I'd smile and ask about your momma while I paused in the midst of browsing and wondering where I left my shopping list.
Now the days are starting to get longer, and on sunny days, you are sure to find me taking a few minutes to bask in the fabulous sunny spot that is my three year old's new big girl bed. Sunny days are coming, but I am feeling defeated about the fact that I didn't beat my winter blues again this year. Whatever. Don't try to encourage me. All you need to say is, "That's rough, Honey," because it is. I don't want to hear about how blessed I am. I KNOW this. I love my family and my husband and my home and my lovely life. Depression doesn't simply mean that I am failing to acknowledge all of the wonderful things in my life. Often I look around at all of these things; I breathe in their wonderfulness, and I wish I could wake up and care more.
For me being depressed does not coincide with being unhappy. I certainly experience many moments of joy and grace and gut-busting laughter all through the winter, but mostly I am sleepy and very low on energy.
Spring is coming, and I will tackle the beast again next year,
... but for now I'm coming out of my cocoon! And I think I mean it this time.
1 comment:
YES to this blog.
This line - "For me being depressed does not coincide with being unhappy" - was like a lightbulb going off in my head. It is so entirely what I've been trying to put words around and thank God you found them.
One year for Christmas, my dad bought my brother and I funny magnets. My brother's said: "Get up. Survive. Go to bed." That's pretty much my mantra these days.
I shouldn't love these posts I know, because I don't want you to be depressed or defeated. But I DO love these posts because (as we've discussed before) they so speak to some of my own truths too.
So I love ya Miss Meredith the Springtime Butterfly, and here's to the sun, doot'n-doo doo...
(Also, in case you were wondering, MY magnet said: I found Jesus. He was behind the couch the whole time.) Sigh... fathers.
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