My Gloom Cloud is Raining

A friend of mine and I were discussing blogs one day.  His blog is much more entertaining than mine and I enjoy listening and partaking in the banter there very much.  However, this is my take on my blog. It's one of my releases, like a good run, meditating or doing a little yoga.  I won't always be entertaining or chipper, but I'm not IRL either.  Yes, I laugh a lot and I talk a lot, but for the most part I'm rather serious, enjoy my alone time, dislike crowds and I'm rather neurotic.  That's me.  So, I may let my little gloom cloud rain here every now and again.  I'm sorry, I'll pass out umbrellas later.

That all leads me to this: today is not one of my better days.  I kind of knew it was coming, I usually do.  I've noticed I sometimes feel very antsy before a depressive episode.  Is that even what they're called?  Episodes?  I don't know, but the days where you wake up and want nothing more than to pull the covers back up and ignore the rest of the world.  I didn't though, no worries.  I have a whole set of things I'm suppose to do to try and get me out of my funks, my counselor seems to like to give me suggestions for fighting my depression.  They're good suggestions and they do work sometimes, it's just hard to get myself started.  I feel like I'm climbing out of a humongous ditch and I can see the light way up top, but it's so damn far away and the climb up really sucks.  It helps if I stay busy though and I know that.  So, I got up, made Nora lunch, let her sleep in an extra half hr and drove her to school,(rather than having her ride the bus) went and ran a few errands and then went to the field where hay was suppose to be dropped off today for this enormous hay maze that's being made for the month of October to raise money for the school.  Swear to God, only this close to Alabama (sorry, anyone who loves Alabama, but...uh, it kind of sucks rocks) would people be making a hay maze.  It's nice, yes, I understand, but really, hay is itchy, bales are heavy and well, I just don't like it.  lol.  I did take my raggedy ass out and move hay bales to help today though and after that I came home, took a shower, and went for a long, hard run.  I know, it seems silly to shower before running, but trust me, running with hay on me would have been miserable.  I did a hard run to help with the depression and it helps, I know it does, but it scares me too.  Let me explain and you'll all be the first to hear it, because I haven't said it out loud yet and am not sure how to voice it really.  Things are always easier to write than they are to say.  Some of you may think differently of me though.  I don't know, I do sometimes.  When I'm depressed and I just want to run, it's a release, yes, but that's not what bothers me.  It's just, when I'm in that place I want to run until it hurts.  I want it to hurt.  That pain that you get when you're running hard and it feels like your lungs are burning and your chest hurts, that's what I'm striving for when I'm in that place and I don't know why.  I'm punishing myself or I guess that's how it feels.

It Doesn't Last Forever

A friend of mine once told me that sometimes it helps to simply write it out.  I'm going to try it today.  I don't usually write on this blog, nor do I plan on continuing to do so, or telling anyone I wrote anything to begin with.  I can only think of a few people I would tell anyway, but releasing the darkness, just a little bit today, may help.  I couldn't run, it's storming out and I have my daughter to watch, so I've been cleaning.  Scrubbing away all the grit and grime where there really isn't much in the first place.  It's therapeutic though, in a way, sometimes I imagine I'm scrubbing away the sadness and chasing away the demons that occasionally decide to dominate my soul.  I fight it as best I can and the medication and counseling has helped, however, I've discovered that depression isn't exactly curable.  There's not a magic pill they can give you or wand they can wave to eradicate it entirely and it creeps up on you and suffocates the happy facade you've created.

I don't generally like to tell anyone about the bad days.  I know my husband sees them and my little girl too more than likely, although I try and shield her from it.  Every now and then I mention it to a few good friends, but I've found that saying I'm sad is often followed by a feeling of guilt.  Everyone has bad days and my friends have many too, some more than me.  I don't need to burden them with mine.  And what do I have to be sad about, really?  I have a husband that loves me, a beautiful daughter, a nice house that we rent, a dog, friends...the most painful struggles in my life thus far have passed and here I sit some days ensconced in a sorrow so thick it's difficult to simply breathe.

Tomorrow will come though, or maybe sooner a happy moment.  It doesn't last forever, the mantra of my day.