Outward action
Dec. 12th, 2003 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaneramosThis week I have been feeling depressed again as I was in late October. During November NaNoWriMo may have distracted me, but I don't know whether it helped or hindered.
I'm astounded at the number of LJ friends who have expressed similar problems the past few days. It must be the season.
The mornings have been particularly bad. I have been isolating myself from many of my friends (RL), a common symptom of my depression, which sneaks up on me before I realize it has happened. I wake up brooding about how they have let me down, feeling that I have become invisible and unloved. That thought pattern has not attacked me this badly since the spring of 2001, but it is an old one. I know it's a symptom, but I still often fail to see past it.
Damn, the bulb in my lamp just blew.
I am like Beverley Crusher in that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where the universe keeps getting smaller and smaller until all her loved ones have gone, she is alone and about to be extinguished.
Communications with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
djjo have been good, in fact the happiness I have had with him recently is a primary motivator to take what steps are necessary for my health. I feel insecure about getting dumped on account of my depression (that has happened twice) but he is solid. We had a long conversation last night. He is different from anyone I have dated before.
"I always made the same mistakes," I told him. "I dated guys who pressured me to fix my problems according to their expectations, rather than letting me find my own way. Or they were caregivers who wanted to mother and smother me. Niether way is good for me."
"You just want someone who will stand beside you," said Danny.
Yes. I couldn't have expressed it better myself. The fact that he understood it without me telling him was, well, wonderful. Thank you, Danny.
The other morning as I lay in bed, struggling to face the day, this phrase rose to the surface of my confusion and imprinted itself on my mind:
"Outward action."
Brooding doesn't do any good. Trying to sort out the negative thoughts in my head is futile. The only thing that does any good is taking action. I have tried to make it my motto for the week.
Actions that help include calling a friend whether I feel like it or not, getting ready for Christmas with my daughters, creative writing, housecleaning, preparing a decent meal or going for a walk. They all require more motivation than I feel, but the outcome is usually beneficial. I have had mixed success, but I did go walking the past couple days (poetbear, you encouraged this, but I think you're aware of that). I made one gift. And as I sit here now the dishes are done. Tonight I'm going to the monthly dance and looking forward to seeing Ray and Jon, even if I feel like avoiding other friends.
Outward action also includes setting up an appointment with my doctor. Hopefully this depression will be short-lived. Perhaps it is just the letdown after finishing my novel and doing the choir concert, but I can't risk neglecting it. Unfortunately I don't have a psychiatrist or therapist anymore. The possibility of requiring treatment again after two-and-a-half years without—that is something I would rather not think about.
But I don't need to think about it, just take outward action.
I'm astounded at the number of LJ friends who have expressed similar problems the past few days. It must be the season.
The mornings have been particularly bad. I have been isolating myself from many of my friends (RL), a common symptom of my depression, which sneaks up on me before I realize it has happened. I wake up brooding about how they have let me down, feeling that I have become invisible and unloved. That thought pattern has not attacked me this badly since the spring of 2001, but it is an old one. I know it's a symptom, but I still often fail to see past it.
Damn, the bulb in my lamp just blew.
I am like Beverley Crusher in that episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where the universe keeps getting smaller and smaller until all her loved ones have gone, she is alone and about to be extinguished.
Communications with
djjo have been good, in fact the happiness I have had with him recently is a primary motivator to take what steps are necessary for my health. I feel insecure about getting dumped on account of my depression (that has happened twice) but he is solid. We had a long conversation last night. He is different from anyone I have dated before."I always made the same mistakes," I told him. "I dated guys who pressured me to fix my problems according to their expectations, rather than letting me find my own way. Or they were caregivers who wanted to mother and smother me. Niether way is good for me."
"You just want someone who will stand beside you," said Danny.
Yes. I couldn't have expressed it better myself. The fact that he understood it without me telling him was, well, wonderful. Thank you, Danny.
The other morning as I lay in bed, struggling to face the day, this phrase rose to the surface of my confusion and imprinted itself on my mind:
"Outward action."
Brooding doesn't do any good. Trying to sort out the negative thoughts in my head is futile. The only thing that does any good is taking action. I have tried to make it my motto for the week.
Actions that help include calling a friend whether I feel like it or not, getting ready for Christmas with my daughters, creative writing, housecleaning, preparing a decent meal or going for a walk. They all require more motivation than I feel, but the outcome is usually beneficial. I have had mixed success, but I did go walking the past couple days (
poetbear, you encouraged this, but I think you're aware of that). I made one gift. And as I sit here now the dishes are done. Tonight I'm going to the monthly dance and looking forward to seeing Ray and Jon, even if I feel like avoiding other friends.Outward action also includes setting up an appointment with my doctor. Hopefully this depression will be short-lived. Perhaps it is just the letdown after finishing my novel and doing the choir concert, but I can't risk neglecting it. Unfortunately I don't have a psychiatrist or therapist anymore. The possibility of requiring treatment again after two-and-a-half years without—that is something I would rather not think about.
But I don't need to think about it, just take outward action.
