Neither Lost Nor Stolen

Today, while exercising, I came to an interesting realization.

One of the themes that seems to be recurring with depression is this idea that depression ROBS you of things or that you’ve LOST something with depression.  (rueful smile)  Ah, if only that were the truth.  Sadly, at least for me, it’s not.  In the same sense that “Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man that he didn’t already have”, then depression neither lost or stole from me anything.  I had capriciously, perhaps even spitefully, given it away or thrown it out.

Seriously.  I mean, I would eat dinner like normal.  However, all the while I would be mentally considering everything I would eat after I ate dinner.  Or if I could just get away with eating a bag of chips or a bunch of granola bars.  On the surface, it appeared I was just eating soup and green beans.  But in actuality, I was putting a load of calories into my body.  Of course, I was eating in front of the TV, which is curious because I’ve never been a huge TV watcher.

Also, while doing all the carb loading, junk filling, I was avoiding exercise.  I’d come home both tired and wired.  I would tell myself that I was hanging out with Keb and Taed, but I wasn’t.  I wouldn’t exercise, even to walk, which Taed would suggest with great frequency.  I think the most interesting part was that I wasn’t willing to accept what my friends were seeing in order to engage in this behavior.  Cassie was on me (as was Taed) about skipping Jazzercise (I still haven’t returned, BTW).  They both pointed out that I’m calmer and happier when I exercise.  That’s true.  I wasn’t going to do it however.

Furthermore no answer, no matter how useful, was going to be put into action.  I just REFUSED to move forward or make attempts.  I can’t imagine how annoying I was or how hard it would have been to watch me.  Generally I’m a do-er.  Sure, I like to sit around and gab as much as the next person, but I wasn’t really DOING anything.  I was complaining — bitching and moaning.  I wasn’t proactive.  I was just…. bitter.

All this verifies that I was throwing away everything about myself that I liked.  I wasn’t fun, interesting, engaging or inspiring.   I wanted to say, nay to confirm and state, that this was all DONE TO ME.  However, in looking back, I can see where I was more than a willing participant in my victimhood.

I have no conclusion, other than to point out that I don’t want to be the angry, bitter, resentful person who sucks the joy and light out of a room.  So I will take my medicine, go to class, practice new (and old) coping skills and ways of thinking, exercise daily, and seek support. I may not be great at mapping the course, but I certainly can follow directions!


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