It was a surreal day here in Lake Wobegon. My mood's been a bit low since the whole intrusive thinking episode a couple days ago. Barely made it out for a run yesterday, and when I finally did, it was a shortened version of the planned whole. Today, not much different. Eight long miles looming over my head. Looming. Even blogging has become a struggle. What do I have to say today that I haven't already said? Or that somebody else hasn't already said? Blankly clicking through my blog, I solemnly contemplate this conundrum.
And then I get a comment that I think is spam, but it isn't, and they like my writing, and want to hire me to do more of it, which, of course, was the original goal and a lifelong dream, to be a professional writer, that is, and to educate others about mental illness, and now on a day when I feel low, the dream comes true? And just so you know, that sentence was meant to be a run-on sentence like that, in case any agents, editors, or people with money who want to pay me to write are reading this right now and thinking, "Boy, I don't think she can write too well after all."
So all that happiness and excitement plum wore me out, as usual, and I had to take a nap. I awoke and jumped into my running clothes before I could think twice. I only had about 40 minutes, and since I am far from a 5-minute miler, the entire 8 mile run was out of the question. I ran 4 miles too fast. I finished those 4 miles around 3:05PM wearing only shorts and a sports bra, sweating profusely, and in desperate need of a quick, cool shower. Why am I telling you this, Keillor? Because this is the part you just can't make up! Two hours later--TWO HOURS--I started my remaining 4-mile segment wearing tights, jacket, and a hat, and was painfully sorry I hadn't worn gloves, too! By the time I got home, my hands were fire engine red and needed to be thawed! Only in Wobegon, Minnesota, Garrison; where right now it just happens to be snowing...
I guess Mother Nature is a bit discombobulated today, too.
Depression Marathon Blog
- Diagnosed with depression 16 years ago, I lost the life I once knew, but in the process re-created a better me. I am alive and functional today because of my dog, my treatment team, my sobriety, and my willingness to re-create myself within the confines of this illness. I hate the illness, but I'm grateful for the person I've become and the opportunities I've seized because of it. I hope writing a depression blog will reduce stigma and improve the understanding and treatment of people with mental illness. All original content copyright to me: etta. Enjoy your visit!
Friday, April 25, 2008