Normal for me is a bit of an effort. I think the tasks I do on a daily basis are about the same as any other working mom does, but they’re an effort for me because of the depression. Sometimes the depression makes it hard for me to sequence, so I have problems getting out of bed. People talk about that all the time, as if it’s this overwhelming sadness and need to hide that keeps depressed people in bed. And maybe sometimes when I’m having a real flare, but on normal depressed days it’s just that I sometimes can’t figure out what to do first. Right leg or left leg? Do I get out and put on some item of clothing, or do I go to the bathroom first? Making breakfast and coffee can be a minefield, even though I can put together a multi-course meal for a dozen people with a variety of food requirements when I’m in remission. But on a normal depressed day I sometimes get confused and can’t act quickly.
I thought it was just me. It’s not. It’s you, too.
And that’s what I want you to take from this calendar. Tuesday is going to be the last day for 11 months. But I want you to know that I know what depression is doing to you. It’s doing it to me, too. It’s doing it to us together, apart.
Let’s figure out how to have more of the together, and less of the apart. Depression creates the apart. Depression lies to us that the together is impossible, that we don’t qualify for the together anymore. And you know that on a good day, and so do I. But I’m writing it down here so we can look at it on a bad day and know that we’re still together, even when all we can see is apart.