Depression Marathon Blog

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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, May 23, 2008

Dead tired


I wish my illness would provide me some sort of schedule. I mean is it too much to ask to be pre-appropriated an official date for these days? Is this going to be a weekly thing, a monthly thing, every third Thursday, what? It would be nice to have a schedule. I should say, I would like to be able to clear my schedule! If I had some advanced notice, I could make sure not to plan any other activities on these dead days.
But, no. Instead, I get today where anything which is scheduled is in certain jeopardy. I guess it is too much to ask for an appointment. It would be so much easier to power down if I knew I had nothing in the way, nothing to be missed or fucked-up because of the unpredictability of this wily illness. I could just listen to my body and go with the flow...if depression had an appointment.
Without an appointment, it's attacks rarely make sense. Like today, there was no warning. No clues. And then boom--I could hardly move. It doesn't make any sense! Like a tornado whipping out of the sky on a clear blue day, I went from easily running 10.5 miles (Wednesday) to gasping for breath coming up the stairs (today). I feel heavy, tired and old. A little warning of what was coming would have been nice.
I'm not suggesting a tornado siren or a TV news alert. A simple heads-up like, "I'll be by Friday to make you glassy-eyed tired, short of breath, short-tempered, heavy, achy, confused, and distressed. Don't make any plans," would do. But that would be too polite and sane for this cruel and insane illness.
My job now is to go with the flow, I guess. Fighting just increases the fatigue. Pushing through it only prolongs the exhaustion. As frustrating and maddening as it is, I've learned I need to listen to this debilitated body and go with the flow. To keep the physical fatigue and debility from advancing to mental fatigue and debility is now my number one goal. After all, dead tired is better than dead.
(image c/o Brenda Kato)

2 comments:

Michelle (The Beartwinsmom) said...

Yeah, I like the idea of an alert system, too. Maybe we should get together and invent one. We'd be rich! ;-)

And as for being tired... I am tired, too, but I can't sleep. UGH. I think I'm asleep, but it doesn't feel like a deep sleep.

Sending you hugs... I agree with you that dead tired is better than dead.

Eli said...

LaRee,

I'm no writing professional but I honestly think your "Dead Tired" posting is exceptional.



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