There are some days that I wake up to a mile-long to-do list and I just feel like curling up in a ball and sleeping. It isn’t because I am lazy (well, I do love sleeping, but for all intents and purposes of this post, it isn’t laziness). It is because I wake up sad for inexplicable reasons. I know, I have depression. I know that I am going to have bad days. I just really HATE these days. Or those days when everything is great and then my mood takes a nose dive and I’m left in the lowest mood confused and angry about where my sunshine and butterflies went.
Sometimes, I give in. Those days, I ask myself what the point of forcing myself to get up to do dishes is, if they are just going to get dirty again. That same logic, in my mind, can be applied to just about anything that would strain my already fragile emotional state. On those days, I spend hours taking BuzzFeed quizzes, curled up on the couch, or staring at my ceiling. On those days, I don’t want to read, to write, to do anything that involves any brain power or physical movement. Honestly, the only reason I am not curled up in bed with the covers over my head is because somebody needs to make sure my little angel doesn’t take over the world. On those days, everything seems pointless and then I get angry at myself for feeling that way. I should be happy, damn it. I should be reveling in my life and how lucky I am. I shouldn’t be incapable of movement out of fear that it will trigger a mental breakdown. And of course, the self-berating makes things worse.
The last few days have either started out like “those days” or have turned into “those days”. Including this morning. Including right now. Today, though, I am going to try. I am going to get up and exercise (it works….sometimes….), and then take a bath and hope that I emerge out of the water more energized, happier, and more badass than Ironman. If it doesn’t work, then I have some minor things to take care of on the computer and I have some Disney movies picked out to cuddle to later.
Regardless, I work tomorrow morning. So, I guess I am just saving up my “faking it” for work. You know those days, when you all smiley people compliment you on your lipstick, while in your mind you are counting down the minutes until you can go somewhere else, preferably alone and surrounded by soft fluffy things that won’t judge you. Well, at least that is what I look forward to….
The point is?
I am trying.
Really (excuse my French) fucking hard.
Every, single day.
So, here I go to try and get some happy hormones pumping!
And before you wonder, yes, I have been taking my happy pills.
Yay for workouts?