It is 24 degrees outside. Yesterday was snowy (though nothing stuck, being the first day of winter that was below 40 degrees). We’re in a cold snap. Which, generally, I am good with, because that’s the way winter is supposed to be, but since it’s been in the 40s and 50s and even the 60s all season, it’s pretty jarring. I don’t know if it is the cold snap or post-holiday/back-to-work let down or being a day away from 31 or what, but I’ve been experiencing a mild depression snap too. (I doubt it’s my birthday, I love birthdays. Seriously, presents are great. I love them. I love watching other people open theirs, I love opening mine. I love making a fuss over people and letting people fuss over me. I am a five year old for birthdays and Christmas. And Halloween, because CANDY!) It’s definitely not of the “stay in bed until 5 pm and then move to couch to stare vacantly at the tv” variety. I am doing mostly okay. I get up with my alarm (which is set to turn off only after I complete a puzzle lock, which helps wake my brain.) But if I don’t immediately, without thinking at all, feed the cats and start working out, I fall into a sort of fog.
I had arranged to have today off for the technician to unhook my cable. They aren’t coming until Sunday, however, so I figured I’d go in anyway. Except yesterday I had an extra 30 minutes in the morning so I thought I’d use it relaxing with the kitties in bed snuggling and snoozing.
I got up at 11:25. Not because I was so tired, just because the idea of moving was way too much for me. This lethargy is usually the only real symptom of my depression, because I hide in books and tv and movies and don’t have to think about stuff and so I don’t cry or anything, and I don’t feel sad, really. Or much of anything, unless circumstances force it (like my extreme frustration with MD unemployment insurance, for example. You have to call them like 50 times before the automated menu will put you on hold if no one is available instead of hanging up on you!)
You know that Hyperbole and a Half about Allie’s depression? It’s sort of like that, only I’m not feeling sad, or hating myself. (I’m totally awesome, you guys, I can’t hate myself.) I just can’t seem to get up and do things. Feeding the cats is the hugest chore ever. Hell, changing channels is an effort! Typing, right now, is a Herculean labor. Seriously, I misspelled “Herculean,” and after I chose the right spelling from the browser dictionary, I sat here and stared at the screen for like 30 seconds. And my hands were already on the keyboard. WTF is wrong with me?
The stupidest part about all this is that I know if I got up and exercised, if I went out and skated, I would feel a little better. Each time I would do that, I’d feel a bit better until I am fine again. But I just can’t seem to do it. Someone please come over and be disappointed in and angry at me until I start doing stuff again.