dianaschnuth

Here we are again.

I want to be excited and happy and full of anticipation as my son embarks on his new kindergarten adventure next week. I want to infuse his upcoming birthday party with joy and cupcakes. Instead, I’m ambivalent. Tired. Going through the motions. My gardens are full of weeds and grasses, my to-do list keeps growing, and I can find zero fucks to give.

Perversely, my fatigue and apathy drive me to stay awake later, and eat poorly, which results in a poor night’s sleep, which deepens the fatigue, which helps keep the cycle going. This has been the pattern for a few days now — last night, I didn’t turn the lights out until after 11:30pm, which is well past my bedtime. I just didn’t care.

I’m recognizing it. It’s like I’m seeing myself from outside myself, willing myself to bust out, cheering myself on. This evening, while my son was bathing, I busted out some crunches and push-ups in an effort to get myself in a better headspace (and out of my smartphone). It kind of worked. It did something.

My plan for tonight (having already gorged on carbohydrates of various kinds) is to finish writing this, wait for Connor to ask for a foot massage and to talk, take care of some nightly clean-up in the kitchen, maybe take a swag at my to-do list, then go into the sunroom (where I haven’t relaxed for weeks) and chill with a magazine. Then, I’ll head upstairs around dusk and spend some quality time cleansing my face and whatnot, to continue the relaxation theme. If I’m not too tired, maybe I’ll do ten minutes of yoga before tucking into my graphic novel cookbook for a bit, then turning out the lights just after ten. That should leave me rejuvenated for a conference with Connor’s kindergarten teacher in the morning.

I have a plan. This is a step in the right direction. Executing that plan will be the next step.

Yes, I have to consciously work toward treating myself right. Lizard Brain doesn’t know shit about treating me right, and if I don’t plan ahead, that’s who ends up driving the bus.

A while back, I created a “depression” category for my blog and moved all my past relevant posts there. Since then, whenever I think about writing a post specifically about how my (undiagnosed) depression manifests itself, I go back and read some of the things I’ve already written, and then I kind of figure there’s no point in rewriting the same sad story a few months later.

That attitude is unhelpful, though, because 1.) I created the category partly to gauge how often I have these feelings, and 2.) writing and getting my thoughts out of my head is therapeutic for me the majority of the time.

Even so, the main way my depression manifests itself is a lack of interest in the things I usually enjoy — including writing. I don’t exactly have the best windows of time to freewrite, either: my brain is working best during the day, when I need to be devoting my brainpower to my paying job. By the time I have time to myself to write in the evenings, especially when I’m feeling blah like I am now — I’m done. It’s just not happening.

Today, I ended up tickety-tapping out some words here and there during my lunch and breaks. This needs to get out of my head. I need to recognize that I’m feeling all meh, talk some stuff out, and make sure this actually gets posted to my blog. (Unlike the few times I’ve felt like this and either started writing or thought about writing and then just gave up on it.)  Continue reading →

I’ve been feeling kind of meh for the past few weeks. I haven’t had a proper workout since before Thanksgiving — some I skipped because I had other obligations, some I skipped because I was tired and I used that as an excuse (can’t have me lifting with bad form and hurting myself), and some I just didn’t feel like doing. (So much for that Discipline Over Motivation thing.)

Whether as a result of not working out or just correlated with it, I’ve also been extra stupid tired lately. Tired and hungry is a Very Bad Combination for me in the evenings, because my lizard brain goes foraging for food and doesn’t quit. Then I also stay up later when I get stupid tired, just because I don’t think to check the clock and get my ass upstairs at a reasonable hour. Then, because I’m overtired and I ate so late in the evening, I have trouble getting to sleep. Once I do get to sleep, I have trouble getting up (I’ve overslept my alarm every single day this week).

I’ve also been rocking crazy vivid dreams that don’t feel particularly restful, like last night’s dream about me being incarcerated and slated for execution because of a traffic violation, and my dream-world attorney was dead and his son had started a restaurant instead of continuing the practice, so I had no representation. Especially being an atheist, the You’re Gonna Die Soon dreams are extra super unrestful.

I’ve been dealing with early morning headaches and general fatigue all week, and today my eyes are visibly puffy. I’ve gained a few pounds over the past several weeks. I feel nasty, both physically and mentally.

I’ve just been in a fuck-all mood lately, too. I’m tired and I don’t give a shit. I try not to let it affect my interactions with others; unfortunately, that extra social effort during the day means I sometimes snap at my son in the evenings when I’m extra tired. Which makes me feel like an ass.

It’s dark and cold and I’m tired and irritable. I don’t want to be active; I’d rather park myself in front of the TV and eat lots of carbohydrates.

Which is exactly what I don’t need.

It doesn’t help that it’s the Christmas Season, which means I’m supposed to be cheery and generous and OMG It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year — and I only got one one batch of chocolate chip cookies baked and in the deep freeze before my brain was like NOPE. FUCK IT.

I have a long weekend coming up (I had to use my last two Personal Days before they expired), so hopefully that will recharge me and help me get back on track. I’ll spend some time sleeping in (“No waking Mommy up before 8:00”) and baking cookies with my son and enjoying my husband’s company for Date Night and getting my hairs did on Monday morning.

I know I need to rein in my evening eating. I need to get back to being active at least three days a week (preferably daily). I also need more sleep than the average bear — nine hours  a night is just right for me, and the seven I’ve been getting just ain’t cutting it.

As with so many other aspects of my life, I know what to do. I just need to do it.

I wonder if I should bring this up to my CNP at my next visit. I wonder if being meh for a few-week stretch every few months constitutes clinical depression that requires medical attention. I don’t know. For me, this is normal. When I neglect myself, it shows. When I feed and exercise myself properly, I’m fine.

It’s just a matter of a.) identifying what tips the dominoes and b.) determining what it takes to stop the cascade and right things again.