Yet, I have the feeling I should be doing more.
Not a healthy feeling, but a feeling none the less. There are a couple of tax items I need to put together. I spoke to my account and confirmed the extended deadlines, which is helpful this year.
Even during my deep depression last year, I had gotten my taxes done early. This year has been a chore.
READ MORE: Why can’t I open this letter?
The cab of my truck desperately needs a deep cleaning.
Long-distance commuting is disrupting my rule of “don’t eat in the truck.†There are a banana peel and two apple cores in the driver’s side door pocket. Salt from the occasional pretzel is caught in the seams of the bucket seat. And I will admit it, once in the past few weeks, I went to Wendy’s Drive Through Window and got a small Frosty. The empty cup and spoon are still on the passenger side floor mat.
The truck really needs washing and I need to decide about purchasing the grille guard.
The cost is $395. My deductible when I hit the deer last November was $500. If I can keep a future deer collision a minor impact (keeping it out of the grille and radiator) I think the price justifies the expense. So why do I still have the grille in my shopping cart at the vendor’s website? I should be doing more about this.
I am calling my 92 year old Mother every day, again.
Visits have been me calling on my phone in the parking lot near the gazebo, and Mom answering the phone in her second-floor room which looks out over the parking lot and the gazebo. My siblings and I have been doing this for weeks, some of them go most days. Packages are left in the foyer and taken to her room after we back slowly away, without making any sudden movements.
Her Assisted Living Facility is doing a tremendous job of keeping Mom and the other residents safe during the pandemic.
I feel guilty for not doing more. The past year had been a challenge, with much time devoted to figuring out me. Having enough energy to give to others has been a struggle. Getting out of bed has been a struggle for months. Lately, I have been working on adjusting my attitude towards sleep and when I get up. While it is still a work in progress, I am not as stressed about when I get up.
I call home during my lunch or dinner break.
Some days, my wife and I talk for 25 minutes, the bulk of my break. Yet I feel guilty for not talking longer. That underlying feeling of guilt is still an unhelpful thinking style I am battling. The past 8 weeks have been more guilt-free. But I’ve noticed it is creeping back into play, again. This is not good news other than I am recognizing it well before I circle the drain.
Am I really doing what I can?
In the end, that is all I can decide. And even that is hard. Being more than a little hard on myself, I am critical of just about everything I do, have done, or will do. This unneeded pressure on myself to operate at a level no mortal soul could expect is where I have placed my bar. Not 10% better, like a great book I’ve read, Mediation for the Fidgety Skeptic.
So, where does this leave me?
Right where I was when I started writing. I’ll need to put my Big-Boy pants on and just finish the taxes. The truck cab I can clean out when I stop for gas. The feelings of guilt I am experiencing will need an attitude adjustment on my part. This will be tougher than the discipline I need to finish my taxes, which right now doesn’t seem like it will happen before I must get ready for work.
READ MORE: I bumped into my old self this morning
Do It Now.
That has been a guiding principle for many years. Why I am slipping away from this is worthy of exploration. I’d hate to think that I am reacting to the uncertainty of COVID-19 and the general angst in our communities. I pride myself on being my own thinker, not following the crowd. Yet, I am wearing a face mask and washing my hands frequently.
I’ve got a couple of hours before work, let me see what I can do about completing the taxes.
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.
Last year, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder.
If you know someone who might benefit from reading this, please share. And your comments are always appreciated.
