Today has been much like most recent days.
Certain topics are not on my radar. I am clunking around in a daze, hoping that the answer to why I am feeling blah will pull me aside and reveal itself to me. Why is life so empty? Why can’t I get it together? Where is the piece I am missing and how do I get it?
I hit every single stoplight on my way to my doctor’s appointment this morning.
I am usually pretty good at timing my travel to avoid most stoplights. I think of it as a gift. I plan for it and keep it in focus. “If you make this light, you will be 10 minutes early.” But part of my confidence is in knowing that I have given myself some time in case something happens. Today, getting stopped at each light was noticeable. How the heck does that happen?
At the doctor’s office, I did not get the answer I was hoping for.
The specialist and I were relieved to find that there are no polyps or and growths in my sinus cavity. The doctor seemed particularly relieved. I am not sure if that means he was expecting to find something, but he said we will both sleep better tonight knowing I have a clear nasal cavity.
I’ve been researching my loss of smell.
This is not a symptom of Covid-19. I have had this condition for over six years. Today’s appointment with a specialist was to explore ways to reverse this loss. It not only affects my sense of smell, but my taste buds no longer give me the full experience of eating pleasurable food.
As I am writing, flies keep landing on my legs.
I am wearing shorts and am sitting on the back deck. The sun is hitting the front of the house, as it is late afternoon. This puts the deck on the back of the house in the shade. There is a wonderful breeze and the day is warm without being overly hot. But instead of enjoying that, I am frustrated with the house flies for landing on my legs.
Memorial Day was a blast, both figuratively and literally.
We stayed within the 10-person limit if you do not count my 14-month-old nephew. Our family all outside, grilling hotdogs around the fire pit followed by smores later. There was a lot to do to get ready, including mowing the yard and getting things down the hill to the firepit overlooking the lake. Today has been clean-up. This included policing the gravel driveway for the left-over carcasses of roman candles and other fireworks.
All of this was fun, visiting with family in camp chairs staggered six feet.
You would think today would include some of the afterglow from yesterday. Heck, I even got out of bed after only hitting the snooze alarm twice. Even with hitting every single light between home and the doctor’s office, I got there a few minutes early. On the way home I stopped by the garden center and picked up some cantaloupe plants.
It turns out rabbits like cantaloupe vines, but do not care for spaghetti squash or cucumber vines.
Now I am dragging out some of the three-foot rabbit fences to protect the vines from extinction. I have enough to do the entire garden but I am not motivated to do all of it today. This means the stakes will cover just the back end of the garden, protecting the cantaloupe, squash, and cucumber vines.
Jumping around in my head, I know I am distracted.
Watching a squirrel hop warily across the back yard, I am reminded that I need to cover the peach trees with netting. Last year, the squirrels ran off with most of the peaches when they achieved golf ball size.
And, I realized that I did not water the Boston fern on the lower back, and it is really time to connect the automatic watering system I installed a few years ago. Having the timer turn on and water all my flowerpots keeps them lush and full. I started using automated watering because I was coming home late in the evening and all the deck flower pots had dried out in the days heat. Now they get watered twice a day.
In two weeks, I have an appointment with a new psychiatrist.
During that visit, I hope to explore ways to not feel so under-energized, day after day after day. My ability to concentrate is being impaired and my ability to complete tasks at home is sketchy. My office needs a good cleaning up, and my desk needs organizing. Having junk mail on the desk gives me a scratch paper for notes, but it is not a welcoming workspace.
Once again, I am back to being tired of being tired.
Picking a small basket of strawberries that I grew should be a treat. But I found myself fussing about the netting we put over the strawberries to keep the birds and the squirrels from eating too many. Somehow, they are finding little spaces in the netting to climb in, nibble at a strawberry, and then get out.
Finding our country home was a blessing.
I remember for the first year, sitting on the porch, looking out to the woods, thinking ‘WE ARE SO LUCKY TO HAVE FOUND THIS PLACE.” Now all I see is the work and the things I have not done. I don’t give myself any credit for having 19 tons of gravel put down on our driveway. No credit to myself for designing, getting permits, and then building a 16 X 32’ deck on the back of the house. No credit to myself for the vegetable garden which gets bigger every year.
I minimize my work to plant a fruit orchard I started from bare-root trees, grapevines, blackberries, and blueberry bushes. I only see the parts of the fence that need black paint touch up, not the fact that I spent 14 hours over three days and the fence looks classy now, instead of looking like old faded wood.
I can sure take the fun out of fun.
I should call my Mother. I should call my kids. I should not be shoulding all over myself. I miss having energy and drive, I am tired so much of the day. I know how to fake it at work. Remember that’s why they call it Concealed Depression. But outside of work, in the real world, I am not holding it together as well as I would like.
It is possible diet could play a roll, but I am eating nuts, avocados, carrots, all kinds of fruit. Yet this has not led to feeling better, stronger, more awake, and aware. I am on record saying, “tomorrow I’ll feel better.” But I am starting to sound like a broken record. I am at the spot where it just skips and skips and never moves forward.
Back in March, I wrote about this feeling (or lack thereof)
Everything I listed then I am still having problems with. Looking at my writing in between mid-March and now, I can count on one hand the good days. Maybe that is all that can be expected right now, but it sure is lousy.
My concealed depression is written under the alias “Depression is not my boss.” I have certifications in SMART Recovery and am a Global Career Development Facilitator.
Diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder last year, I am sharing what I learn. If you know someone who might benefit from reading this, please share.
I very much appreciate your comments.