Darkness Falls

If you’ve ever struggled with depression you understand the overwhelming role it plays in your day to day life. For me, it heightens my obsession with food, increases suicidal tendencies, decreases feelings of self-worth and lowers overall performance levels. A mistake that would normally warrant an “Oops! Well, I’ll do better next time,” suddenly turns into the collapse of western civilization. Sleep, procrastination and mind-dulling television become the drug of choice. So much so that bills go unpaid, cleaning goes undone and phone calls go unreturned. Goals that had once been alive, and well within the realm of possibility, suddenly turn into worthless dreams.

Over the years I’ve learned there are triggers to relief* and triggers to depression. One of my triggers to relief is a clean, uncluttered home. One of my triggers to depression is a messy home. Right now my home is more cluttered than I’ve ever seen it. I can’t even open my front door more than a foot because of a six and a half foot box sitting in the entrance hall waiting to be taken downstairs to the dumpsters. I would have taken it long ago, but there is no way I could cart it out on my own. The box is the residue left by the gigantic treadmill that currently takes up twenty-five percent of my living room. Because of said treadmill, there is a black leather chair blocking the walkway between the kitchen and the living room, a sewing machine (and various embroidery tools) resting against my couch and boxes full of Avon supplies decorating every possible nook and cranny. Having my home in such disarray only helps my depression to grow. I can be in a perfectly wonderful mood, but the instant I walk into that apartment I change.

Last weekend Boyfriend and I spent time together, along with our friends Footloose and Mooskers. We each had other things we needed to get done (I had my car and apartment to clean, among other errands and he had his car to fix, shopping to do and bills to pay), but instead of being the productive members of society that we both knew we should have been we chose to go out. Saturday night we saw Little Shop of Horrors in a the small town of Ojai. Sunday we spent the day looking at the inside of innumerable dead bodies at The BODY WORLDS Experience, followed by a filling meal at Sierra’s in the San Fernando Valley. By the time we got home Sunday night there was no chance of anything getting crossed off either of our to-do lists.

That is not going to be the case this weekend. I am determined to get my home back in shape. For the first time in a long time I’m feeling good. I’m feeling motivated. It feels as though a storm is looming, but I’ve just seen a break in the clouds. I know that I’m depressed and I know that I’ll continue to be depressed, but I am going to do everything I can to escape the situations that keep my spirit locked up. My depression has affected not only my personal life, but my work performance and I can’t allow the pattern to continue. I want to be comfortable in my own home. I want Boyfriend to be comfortable in my home. I want to invite friends over for dinner parties, hold movie nights and be prepared for unexpected visitors. I want to be organized in both my personal and professional lives.

As the saying goes, I must strike while the iron is hot. That is why I must tackle this project this weekend. I’ve got a hold on me depression (weak though, it may be) and I will manipulate that hold into a pathway to productivity. The simple act of writing this entry is a step in the right direction. I know from previous bouts that this depression will not last forever. I realize that I go in cycles, but I’m going to do what I can to make this the least suffocating down cycle I’ve ever been through.

*Note: I say relief rather than happiness because I am a very happy person, who happens to be depressed. Yes, I’m a walking contradiction.