Lately I've been feeling buried. Life is pressing in from all sides, and this box I find myself in, is getting smaller and smaller. I sit on the couch and look outside but can't find the energy or strength to break out. Perhaps I'll lock myself in the bathroom, turn on the shower, and have a good cry. When was the last time I had a good, hard cry? 2005 when my dad passed away? This is not how I want to feel. I know what I need, but it so easy to stay mired.
I'm trying to set aside a few times a day to focus on intentional thoughts and not allow this default setting to control my day. Taking a few moments to breathe deeply and focus my mind. Pushing hope to the front to overshadow despair. In a more physically practical way, I am trying to force myself outside because I KNOW the air will start to wake me. It always does. It's taking the first step.
Depression isn't something I've ever had to deal with much. After my mom's death, my dad's long recovery period, my dh losing his job and his depression, I had a rather long period of on/off depression. Looking back, I recognize it clearly. At the time, I was blind to it. Having a good mental picture of myself at that time can serve as a warning beacon. The warning lights are flashing. I'm thankful I can see that.
Now to do something about it.