4 days. That’s how long I went without showering. Until today and I only forced myself to do it because the humidity was stifling and causing my pancreas to sweat. These little ‘normal’ things that ‘normal’ people do, like bathing, brushing teeth, folding laundry, attending a concert….
These are the uphill battles for bipolar depression. Such small things, seemingly simple and innocuous, but so…damned…difficult. 4 days without a shower. Nasty, right? Though I did wash my hair Saturday with the shower sprayer because no amount of deodorant can make your grubby hair and itchy scalp let up.
Do I admit any of this with pride? No. It’s humiliating. But a recent comment on how refreshing (or shocking or gross, something to that ilk) my blatantly honest take on depression is reminded me…I don’t blog so people find me funny or pretty or a genius. I blog because THIS IS THE REALITY. It’s ugly and nasty and embarrassing, but this is my truth, and it is the truth for millions of us who battle the ugly beast called depression. Many people can’t find their voice or don’t have the courage to open up about how awful it is.
It is for them, as much as myself, that I speak out on these ugly things.
And while mired in ugly petty depression that makes me a shitty person raining on parades and blowing up floats…I will also be fair and include the small triumphs.
Yesterday, the park was offering free ferris wheel rides and my kid begged me to take her. I was terrified. But I sucked it up and I took her and ya know what? It wasn’t the greatest fun because, eww, other people, agoraphobia, uneasy…But it wasn’t traumatic. And she got to ride with her mom, with her church friend, with the neighbor girls…and she didn’t puke or freak.And I was reminded how much I always LOVED amusement park rides. And contrary to what my ass trash stepmonster said, my ass DID fit in the seat.
Tomorrow I have to have her an allotted spot at 9:30 a.m. so she can march in the church parade and throw candy. That makes me nervous but I spoke with the pastor (who seems like such an amazing lady, I almost wish I was religious) and they said if picking her up was too much stress for me, they could bring her home. And I am so grateful. Then tomorrow night the church is having a cookout (I declined, cos crowds) and I am dropping Spook off and they are gonna take the kids to see fireworks at the park where I haven’t been able to go in 20 years because last time I went I threw up, the traffic and people were too much for my panic disorder.
I am so glad she gets to participate and selfishly glad that I have an escape route. I am not mean or selfish, but I am neurotic and with all meds failing (aside from lamictal and xanax) I am just not to the point where I can deal right now. I haven’t given up, though. The right cocktail could be out there and next year, I might be able to handle all the crowds and noise and traffic. It could happen.
Least this year I don’t have to feel like a monster for my neuroses. My kid gets to go be a kid and have fun and that’s great. Maybe my lazy butt will dye my hair or something that lame depressed people put off because, well, they are depressed. I don’t know. I am happy my kid and I got to do something together and now she gets to celebrate a holiday I really have no interest in. Loud fireworks may be pretty but the noise…NOPE.
Today was the trauma of paying bills and realizing how little money I have what with her birthday and school clothes and shoes and supplies coming up next month. It makes me lose my breath. But we will manage, even if she has 2 new outfits for school and we have to do mix and match. Or I may have to seek out a charity to help with supplies because the school is never good enough with dollar store stuff, they need certain pencil brands and notebooks and blah fucking yada bite me.
For today, though…Bills are paid, kid has food (I’ll be living on eggs, baloney, and nacho chips for the next month) and my car, which is running like crap and acting like it’s about to give up and drop in the road…got us home from errands. Small victories, right?
SEE? I can toss in some positive with all the negative. But the anxiety and panic and depression simply are what they are and if someone wants to deem me a gloom monger for speaking the truth…
Go stab yourself with a rusty spork for lacking empathy.