A couple of days ago, if you would have told me to hold on because I will see a way out of the depression and anxiety, I would not have believed you. This episode I have been in is very bad; probably the worst I have felt in years. But, last night, after a very busy day, I felt something else: a sense of accomplishment. Granted, I felt like shit all day, but I didn’t let it stop me from completing everything I needed to get done.
I wrote yesterday how I felt when I got up, and I didn’t hold out much hope that the day would be productive. I thought I would probably stay in bed all day again, even though there were things I needed to get done. In the past I would have just said “Fuck it” and rolled over with a pillow over my head, but this time I didn’t.
After my early morning writing session, I went back to bed for a couple of hours. I didn’t sleep, I just lay there in bed staring at the ceiling feeling hopeless and lost. I felt like I was the only one in the world, even though my wife and child were asleep next to me. It’s very lonely laying there with all that negativity floating around in my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to wake them up.
They finally awoke around 7am, so I pulled myself out of bed with all the willpower I had left. I floated around the house for a while like a ghost, then forced myself to eat a quick breakfast. Food was the last thing I wanted, but I knew I would need the energy later, so I ate a little without even tasting what it was.
I didn’t shave or comb my hair, I just threw on some clean clothes and brushed my teeth. I knew I probably looked like a crazy hobo, but I really didn’t care. I gathered the family together and we left the house. As I was driving away, I had time to think how nice it would be if I just turned the car around and went back to bed, but I was already up and on my way, so I didn’t.
I won’t bore you with the details of my day, but the highlight was the haircut/shave/massage I got for $5 that made me look and feel somewhat human again. Sometime during the day, I got my appetite back, because I was eating everything in sight. That is another nice thing about paradise, if you want something to eat, there are little food stands everywhere.
We were done by 3:30pm, and I sat outside at the farm, smoking a cigarette, trying to expel the farts I developed from the delicacies I ate during the day. The sun was shining, and baby Z was running around playing in the yard, giggling the whole time. Through the fog of depression and anxiety, I realized that this was one of those golden moments of happiness that I should not miss, so I focused my mind on my daughter and smiled a little smile for the first time in the day.
When we arrived home, I started to watch a movie, American Pie Reunion (the single biggest pile of ass I almost finished watching), and waited for dinner to be ready. I don’t know why I was going to eat, because I was still bloated and gassy from the crap I ate all day, but I did.
When I went to bed later, I still felt bad, but way in the back of my head there was a little hope.
A hope that the next day would be just a little better.