I have been struggling for a while to fight against the return of depression. I have made great strides in overcoming quite a bit of the triggers which cause anxiety, but this hopeless feeling can be a bit overwhelming. I can’t tell you how mad and frustrated I am that my happiness moments didn’t last long. I have turned to keeping myself busy with big and tedious projects to escape my thoughts. Knitting is a great activity due to the necessity of having to count.
Because I can’t chew gum and walk at the same time, there are weeks I can only deal with one thought at a time while trying to ignore a bunch of negative self-talk. Focusing on counting a knitting pattern, semi-blocks the thoughts. The only problem is that counting doesn’t replace the negative thoughts with positive ones.
I can do this. I know I can. I believe I can. I know I can’t think myself happy, but I can certainly refuse to think about the negative that brings me down. When I begin to feel as if nothing matters, it is rather difficult to fill the void that blocking negative thinking leaves. In theory, having positive thoughts should fill that void. But, I feel nothing.
I have written about a routine I perform each morning–I tell myself that ‘today will be a good day. No doubt something will challenge me, but I am strong’. Not the exact words every morning, but something close.
For the last couple of weeks, I have been waking up saying … “crap, I woke up”. Pretty negative, right? However, I get out of bed and work hard to change the thought of giving up.
Other than trying to keep my hands busy, the way I’m trying to fight back is by taking note of what makes me smile. Some days I have to look very hard. When fighting against anxiety, which is intensified by feeling that nothing matters, exhausts me and makes it hard to fight.
What an oxymoronic way to live.
With so much to smile about, so many beautiful things in this world, I refuse to give in.
- the feel of the carpet right after vacuuming
waking up in the middle of the night because a dream I was having about someone annoying me by humming while I was trying to read, was my husband’s snoring which had infiltrated my dreams. Ever have those moments? When a sound is incorporated in a dream?
our oldest’s son’s enthusiasm that he finally found an apartment close to where he works, eliminating a horribly long commute
the color of my husband’s eyes
the fact that my husband will mute the television and look at me when I have something to say—even if it’s nonsense
Facetime with my daughter
These brought smiles to me the last couple of days.
I’m off to find something else to smile about—and to see how much more I can learn about building a shower pan.