I'm in the freezing
It's been a strange few months for me. It seems to have started when my family bought a new house. Suddenly every second of every day was busy. No time for TAY. No time for games. No time for anything but moving and stressing over the thousands of dollars streaming out of our savings account at an alarming rate.
Also, there was no time to be depressed. It was lurking there: my old enemy. I was just too busy for it though. Somehow that was keeping it at bay.
Then something else happened. I got an urgent call one day from my mom telling me that my Nana fell, get to the hospital, and get there fast. And I did. I was the only member of my family there that night and suddenly I was important. Family members who rarely even talked to me were calling. I was (for the first time ever) the go-to person. Suddenly I wasn't just the "weird one," I was the "weird one in charge." Thank yous were rained over me. Praises came my way.
As the muses in Hercules would say:
"From zero to hero just like that."
It was like that the first few days my Nana was in the hospital. Then she had surgery on her broken hip and started recovering surprisingly fast for her age. Then she moved to a rehabilitation center. Life started going back to normal, along with how my family viewed me.
It all came to a head on Saturday. My aunt, sitting with her
on her lap, told me to kill my pets. More specifically she told me to feel my pet rat to my pet snakes and find horses to stomp on the snakes. All this because she doesn't like my pets.
"From hero to zero in no time flat."
This broke me. Literally.
When I feel depression creeping close, there is always that moment that "breaks" me. It's hard to explain, but I always know it when it happens.
Here's the thing though: I still had no time to be depressed. I'm still in the process of moving. My Nana is still in a rehabilitation center. And now I need a job ASAP to pay for the new house.
This week was a battle. One I was losing more and more everyday. Games weren't helping. TAY wasn't helping. Even singing, which has brought me out of so many low points, wasn't helping.
And that's where I found myself yesterday: outside, raking leaves, in the freezing rain, depressed.
Then I realized something: I was having fun. Somehow what I was doing was therapeutic. Somehow the universe had put me in the perfect place at the time I needed it most.
I stood in my yard for a long time trying to figure out why such a trivial task meant so much. Then I remembered how much I loved dancing in the rain as a child. That sometimes the cold can make you feel alive. That some of the sweetest sounds are moving leaves and freezing rain on grass.
Here were all these simple little things reminding me that if a random comment can break you, then maybe a random happy memory or a kind word or one of life's simple little things can make you whole again.
I'm not here to preach about getting over depression. It doesn't work like that. I understand. You don't just pull yourself up most of the time. I know that a lot of us suffer, and I hope you recognize when something good happens and enjoy it, even if you're feeling down. I also hope those good times outweigh the bad.
(Sorry about the weird spacing. Kinja strikes again.)