This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.
I try not to whine, I try not to complain about how I have it worse than anyone else because really, I don’t think I do.
But right now I feel like it’s just not fair.
I know, life isn’t fair and all that bullshit, but right now I feel like too much is piled on top of me and I can’t climb out and it’s overwhelming.
It’s vertigo, and people deal with this every single day and still function normally, but I already fight through so much to get out of the house every single day and this one more thing . . .
I haven’t figured out how to fit it into my version of normal and honestly, it’s knocking me on my ass.
And on my ass is the worst place for me to be.
My doctor is telling me to wait 7-10 days and see how I feel, which seems perfectly reasonable, but I haven’t figured out how to get myself out of the house regularly like this. I’ve cancelled almost everything.
And I am feeling a little bit better, maybe because I’m doing less, maybe because I’m healing, but it’s being replaced with the depression that happens when I don’t leave the house for too long. I sat still too long and now I don’t want to get up, now I don’t want to leave, now I don’t want to move.
I made myself go grocery shopping last night, I rode with Wonder Woman and I went in alone to prove to myself that I could and I ran into someone I know and I swore the whole time she was judging me for doing too much when I’m “supposedly sick” and cancelling the rest of our plans.
And the fact is, she either wasn’t judging me, or it doesn’t matter because I’m doing the best I can. But it doesn’t matter in the moment because I’m too busy beating myself up because I’m sitting in this fucking desk chair that I spent far too many years sitting in.
And now I feel stuck here. Now, even if I start feeling better I’m not going to want to move because now, the depression has wrapped its arms around me. Self care means sitting still but sitting still means my brain tackles me. It’s really nice not leaving the house during the winter months.
I have things I’m supposed to do all weekend, places I’m supposed to travel and I don’t want to do any of it. I can’t tell if it’s honestly because I feel like shit, or if it’s depression telling me just to sit still in this warm pile of shit. Either way, I want to clear my calendar but I know I’ll regret it if I do.
I try not to whine and I try not to complain but every day I already fight pain and mental health and all this other shit to get out of the house and piling one more thing on top just made things crumble. I’m sure I’ll pull it back together, but it’s taking me a few days.
How many days is reasonable and how many days becomes an excuse?