Depression Marathon Blog

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Diagnosed with depression 19 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!

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Slow Sundays

Two Sundays in a row, I've inexplicably suffered. I'm not sure what's going on. Last Sunday I chalked it up to my knee surgery which was just two days prior. But today, I'm feeling it again, and I don't understand why. I feel like I've fallen off a cliff with severe lethargy and fatigue. My mood is low, and it feels difficult to move.

I woke up this way, again, for the second Sunday in a row. The good news is it only lasted about 24 hours last week, so maybe there's hope for the same today. But I get scared when I feel this way. With this illness, I never know how long a (hopefully) momentary crash will actually last.

And I hate feeling this way, especially when it comes out of nowhere. I really hate feeling so heavy. It's hard to explain, but if you've been there you probably understand. It literally feels difficult to move my arms and legs. Each appendage seems to weigh 30 pounds more than it did when I went to bed last night. It's so weird, so random, and so frustrating.

My plans for the day may have to be changed. I was hoping to head outside for a long walk with Jet. I've got laundry to do and a house to clean. But to accomplish any of those plans, I'll have to force myself to move. I'm fighting to stay upright right now. I'd much rather go back to bed.

I mentioned a walk, which unfortunately may now be out of the question. I've actually been cleared to resume running. I'm only 10 days post-op, but my doc gave me the go-ahead a few days ago. He wants me to come back very, very slowly, however, so Grandma's Marathon in June is likely no longer an option. That's disappointing, but it's way more important to come back healthy, so I'll do as I'm told.

Hopefully I'll get that walk in today. At this moment, however, getting out the door seems like a long shot. Acceptance... I'll do what I can and pray this is just another 24 hour dip. Things have been going well, so I have no reason to expect any different, but suddenly falling off the cliff is scary, nonetheless.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I tend to dip on the weekends, and for me I think it's the absence of routine to keep me occupied. So I ruminate.