Reclaiming My Life

Some of you know all too well, the terrible effects of depression.  Whether you suffer from it yourself, or have a loved one who does, you'll identify with me in this post.  For those of you who don't, let me start off with a quick explanation before I go into my post.  People with depression, for the most part, lead normal lives.  We learn to mentally talk ourselves down from unreasonable intrusive thoughts (well, sometimes), and get through each day, accomplishing our tasks, just like anyone else. There are times, however, when no amount of reasoning can snap us out of it.  Everyone reacts to these episodes differently, so I can only speak personally here.  For me, these thoughts take two different forms, depending on the circumstances. Form number one is fear and anxiety, causing me to want to hide from the outside world.  The second, and most often occurring form, is a complete loss of energy.  I lose all interest in the hobbies and crafts that normally bring me so much joy.  I look around at all the unfinished work, knowing what I need to do, but having absolutely no desire to do it, and feeling guilty because I'm not doing it.  Eventually, I have to address the issue and the overwhelming pile of ignored tasks, whether I want to or not.  If I waited until my heart was in it, I'd never do it.  Normally, as I see each goal accomplished, I begin to perk up.  I call this "work mode."  If I ever get in work mode, it's hard for me to stop until everything is done.  If I run out of time, I tend to be disappointed in myself thinking of all I wanted to do that didn't get done.  I have to redirect my thoughts to focus on what I DID get done, because if I didn't, the discouragement and lack of energy would start all over again.
Keep my words in mind as you look at these garden pictures.

This is the new rose bed, Dave dug for me last year.  Because of an intense depressive episode, I failed to do my part in keeping it clean and weeded.  As you can see, I've lost one of my rose bushes.  This was  the beautiful, purpley-pink roses I was so fond of, and posted pictures of every chance I could.  I still want to cry thinking about it.

After looking at that weed-filled bed for almost a month, I finally got out there and cleaned it.  No, my heart wasn't in it, but I knew I had to do it, and yesterday was sunny and just cool enough to be comfortable.  I left all the grassy growth, as I was having trouble distinguishing what was weeds, and what was my chives.  I did managed to pull all the leafy weeds, and gently turn the soil a bit.

Here's my Valentine's day gift from Dave, to replace the rose I lost.  He's way too good to me, and I often feel guilty because I don't deserve him.  Of course, that's the depression talking...I hope...

I guess the title of this post is deceptive because I'm, obviously, still in the midst of a depressive episode.  I haven't reclaimed my life at all, but hopefully, taking these first steps will pull me back to life. I'm tired of just going through the motions, but I will continue to do so until I feel human again.