After sleeping some 13 hours (yes you are reading that correctly) from Friday into Saturday morning, I was determined that I was going to take an assertive attack on the depression that was lurking over my head like a dark cloud. It was during the consumption of a cup of coffee that I devised my plan. I would show that no good, dirty depression that I was having no more of this and I would be, brace yourself, productive on what was left of this fine Saturday morning. I told myself that I would be productive, and I would get done what I had not been able to accomplish in the days leading up to this very lazy day.
Post coffee and breakfast (Frosted Flakes, they’rrrrre Great!) I began in the kitchen. I started putting one thing away at a time. It was tedious, but it was less overwhelming than looking at all that had taken over our counter. Before I knew it, the kitchen was clean, the dishes were done, clothes were in the process of being cleaned and the bedroom was tidied. He was happy that I was up and out of bed, but also pleasantly surprised to see that I had applied myself and completed several housework chores. I even managed to get done some college schoolwork.
I felt good about myself. Don’t get me wrong, I was incredibly tired and lethargic, but I was determined that I was going to prove this depression wrong and go against all that I wanted to do, and what the depression was whispering in my ear. The couch was calling out to me, the tiredness deep in my bones was pleading with me to sit down and rest. There was that lack of motivation that was trying to convince me that I didn’t need to do anything. That nothing was more important than laying on the couch and feeling sorry for myself and wishing that I had a different life.
But no, I fought, and I fought hard. There was showers and hair washing. Running of errands and a wonderful dinner out (sushi, oh how I love my raw fish!) There was time spent with my spouse and engaging in conversations and watching shows with my most favorite person in the world. At the end of the day, I was just as tired as when I woke up, but I was content. I had gone toe to toe with the depression and I won. I may have won the fight for just today, but after winning, I was encouraged that I could do it again tomorrow.
Sunday started bright and early with a 6 am wake up. We were kayaking today, and I was excited. I turned my brain off. I did not allow there to be more activity than to be focusing on what I was going to do and how amazing it would be. I told the depression to shut it and just flat out ignored it’s being. Again, much like the day prior, I was tired, that fatigue, just wanting to lounge all day in my pajamas and not brush my teeth all day tired, but I told it to leave me alone. I was determined to have a day like I did on Saturday, a productive day where I showed depression who was ACTUALLY in charge and who was calling the shots.
This weekend I felt incredibly in charge of a condition that often makes me feel like I have no control. I was faced with a challenge and instead of walking away, or shooing it off to the side, I fought it head on and I won. What immense satisfaction this brings to my overall wellbeing. I am sitting here, thinking, and meditating on the fact that I set a goal and I achieved it. I did not let depression win.