There's a Cymbalta commercial that comes on TV and the theme is Depression Hurts. I hate seeing that commercial.
Being trapped in your own head, that is constantly telling you how worthless you are and how much you can't do gets tiring. Fast.
Some days it takes me to the point where I'm unable to function to do even the smallest things like making dinner for my family or unloading the dishwasher.
The chemicals in my brain are different from the norm, it takes me longer to get motivated to do things, if I can do them at all. Leaving the house for any social interaction is hard and actually impossible at times. When taking Oskar for a walk is too daunting for me, I know that I'm having a rough patch. Hello, rough patch.
I got up this morning and went to see my mom. I didn't do any of my other errands, but I did the most important one and enjoyed spending some time with her, seeing some of the things that my grandmother had saved and reading a letter from my mom's grandpa.
As always I'm writing this (somewhat disjointed) post in an ongoing effort to help people understand bipolar, depression, & mania. We're not crazy, we're not lazy, we're hurting and if we're lucky we know that this episode will pass, hopefully sooner rather than later.
