Yesterday, though, all bets were off. Maybe it was just the difficult week of unrelenting pain. Maybe it was the fact that I still was having trouble walking despite the meds and some rest. Maybe it was my art class canceling at the last minute again, leaving me in the lurch without notice. Maybe it was Father's Day weekend, with my dear old dad's death anniversary immediately preceding the celebrated day. Maybe it was seeing my beloved Hapi bird with ripped out feathers and being powerless to do anything about it. Maybe it was a messy house and not being able to clean it the way I want to. Maybe it was relationship issues with the guy I care so much about. So many possible things. Maybe it was that it was a gorgeous day, and I was home alone, miserable in the house seeing all I couldn't do. Maybe it was because the "tear dam" broke at the ER and I had more frustration to get out. Maybe it was part of menopause. Maybe it was a reaction to the pain meds I took to address the back issue and get some sleep (same ones I took post-surgery.)
Whatever it was, I was just in a depressive funk for the whole day. I felt really, really low and was looking at my life through a pair of gray colored glasses that I thought I threw away years ago. It was ugly. I would start doing something productive and then find myself crying -- actually crying -- a few times and feeling very badly. Useless and unlovable, doomed to loneliness. In talking to my friends, I know we all go through this sometimes, and I am not alone. That is why I am sharing it here. I'm not proud of cracking, but at least it was on a weekend and didn't interfere with work (lol.) It is hard to carry a lot of "stuff" around day in and day out and not react, I guess. And it is hard to carry all this stuff alone. This excessively sad reaction, however, was not my normal self. It was a bad feeling to "go there." I beaded for two short sessions (sitting is difficult right now) and that was a great distraction but didn't solve the problem. Red flags were popping in my mind like "Whoa! This is not normal thinking for you, Amy, what the heck? Snap out of it!" But, I just couldn't budge.
Then as the day progressed and a very good friend of mine, who is also having her share of issues, suggested an ice cream dinner. I protested saying I was miserable company. She said she was too, and I reluctantly agreed to go out for a bit. Over an overabundance of calories and deliciousness, we tossed around the details of our lives and played out scenarios that would change things. We thought of our blessings, but still ended up with the question -- "Why does life always seem so hard?" While everyone has their own backpack of problems and worries, sometimes it feels like our own personal ones never end or let up. We make our own lives, and this includes challenges if we are living with meaning and purpose, and usually can take them in stride. I guess this momentary lapse of confidence and hope in life's future is part of the journey, too.
When my friend pulled up to my house to drop me off, my guy friend pulled up, surprising me with a visit and a much needed hug. I felt my depressive glasses fall off and hit the ground. Thank you my friends (and this includes ice cream) for the help. As summer begins, and I have a lot of time on my hands, I hope I can avoid their reappearance and stay on track as being in "the rabbit hole" is awful. For anyone who has never been in a depressive funk, don't judge -- it happens. It's ugly, self-confidence shaking, and unfortunately, a very human experience. We are all breakable, vulnerable creatures despite how we face out to others. I didn't take the strong pain med last night at bedtime to see if that helps stave off the dumps. God knows I can't afford to have ice cream every day! Cheers.