phew

Finally.  Do you know how hard it is to get back into one’s blog when it’s been a while and you can’t remember the password and keep using the incorrect email address?

Answer:  Very Hard!  I’ve been trying to get back in for a while but kept running into road block after road block after road block.  I’ve had some excellent ideas for posts but couldn’t get in to post them.  And now of course, I can get in and the mind has been drawing a blank.

What I can post about is what’s been going on in my personal life.  Any one following me on a regular basis knows that I suffer from depression.  I’m in the depths of one and then slowly the sun starts to come through and I think I’m all better now.

But depression doesn’t work that way and without me really realizing it I was starting to go under again.  It was different this time so it took me longer to clue in.  I wasn’t as filled with self loathing this time like I have been in past depressions.  I didn’t like myself but the little voice that kept telling me what a useless person I was, nobody really cared, nobody really liked me and they spoke about me behind my back was absent.  Nope, that monster depression attacked me in a different way this time.  I had no energy for anything and I didn’t care about my surroundings.  On my days off, I’d rarely get dressed, instead I watched CNN all day.  I tell you it’s a scary thing when one recognizes the voice of Ted Cruz on the television when one is another room.  THAT’S when you KNOW that you’re in trouble.  But even that didn’t get me moving.

The worst part though was I was letting the house go.  I’ve been doing that for a long time now but the snowball was huge and near the bottom of the hill.  I could barely move around in the house and I’m still in danger of falls.  I had no clean counter space so I wasn’t cooking, the bathroom was so bad it was almost creepy showering and I only had one space to sit in the living room.  I never opened the blinds to let light in and I stopped taking my medication for depression because the depression was telling me why bother??  Nothing matters.  And yet still on the outside no one would guess what was going on inside.  Of course I avoided having anyone come to the house as I was so ashamed of the state it was in but I couldn’t gather the energy to do anything about it.

But I hit the very, very bottom when my toilet clogged up and I’m not going to give TMI but it was disgusting.  After work I want to a 24 hour mental health clinic and spoke to a sponsor for hours.  We came up with a plan.  Number 1 was to get the house back in order.  I contacted a company that helps people with hoarding issues.  Yes, I had  crossed over into genuine hoarding and while not as bad as what one sees on Extreme Hoarding, still it was pretty bad.

The shame I felt when someone came for an assessment was horrendous.  It’s an even harder thing to admit to than depression.  Because of course the voice kept telling me what a lazy disgusting place my house was.  But the person they sent, a young woman, has truly been wonderful.  She contacted a plumber as the first item and since then she’s been coming over twice a week to help me purge.  We are finished the bathroom and the kitchen and I’ve been slowly working on the living room and next visit we are going to tackle it together.

I could go on and on about some of the stuff that we’ve been tossing, such as cereal dating back to 2012, but it would take way too long and be way too boring.

My house is starting to come back, I’m back on my meds again, the depression is lifting and I’m opening the blinds to let in the light again, both literally and figuratively.  And it feels good

And blogging – I’m back to blogging again and I think that’s best of all.  It’s my voice.

 

'til later