It finally happened… a day I haven’t seen in awhile even though I have been suffering from this sixth episode of Depression for almost a year. I can’t even remember the last time this day occurred, but today it did… the day I couldn’t get out of bed.
I couldn’t get up. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sleep and mope the day away with some tears and Netflix binge watching. I didn’t want to get out of bed and face the world, face my husband and child. Heck, I didn’t want to face my cat. I just wanted to live in the warm bubble of my bedroom with the weight of my blankets caressing me, cradling me. Rolling over, I looked at my clock. The big hand was on the 4, the little on the 9.
9:22 am. I should have been sitting at the dining room table chatting with my husband while he cooked our weekend breakfast. I wasn’t there though. I was still in bed. Rolling onto my back I stared up at the ceiling. Emptiness. My only thought, “Wow, do I need to dust the fan blades.” Some how I dozed off once again and awoke to my cow clock reading 10:22am. The cat has just opened my door and walked gracefully to the head of my bed. She jumped up and sniffed my face, rubbing her head against mine. I could hear my husband and child conversing in the dining room about breakfast.
I still didn’t want to get up. I was not in any mood to face Sunday. Just let me stay here in my bed. Don’t make me move. Jimmy approached my room and asked me what I wanted for breakfast, “Waffles or French Toast?” I didn’t care and relayed that. I really didn’t. My eyes closed, opened, closed, opened, and closed. At 10:50am I was told breakfast was ready. Ugh, I have to get up?! I moved slow, like a turtle to the kitchen, sat down and hunkered over my plate.
“Did you not sleep well?” asked Jimmy.
“I slept fine. I’m just having a very off day.” I mumbled.
He knew what that meant. He knew that meant his wife was far away in a non reality world. He knew she would be mopey, sad and distant the rest of the day. He knew because he has seen this so many times before.
At the end of breakfast, I schlepped upstairs to change. I forced myself to brush my teeth and hair. I threw on jeans and a hoodie and moped. I couldn’t function today. I just wanted to sleep through the whole day.
Then the following words were uttered forth from my mouth, “I don’t want to be alone. Don’t leave me alone.”
Scared at what I had just said, tears began to well up. I remember the last time those words exited my lips. I wound up putting myself into the hospital again for a few days. It worries me. Am I that person again?
As a family we then ran a few errands. Sophia whined occasionally as she didn’t want to stop at such boring places as Whole Foods or the liquor store. Jimmy slightly scolded her. And I, I just wished I was back in my bed, warm, passing the day away with Orange Is The New Black, some wine and some word searches.
Stephanie, I have those days, too. Days where I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Days where I wonder if this day of wanting to hide in bed is just the barer of the worst news imaginable. And some days, getting out of that bed, asking to not be alone, is a triumph. So much love to you. ❤
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Stephanie, I feel ya. For me, sometimes the fear of a relapse is worse than my symptoms. Much love and hope for peace, Mama.
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Sending so much love, friend. I'm so glad you got out of bed and kept moving. That you stayed with those who love you. You did it! You made it through the day. Step after step. We're here with you. It can be so scary, but we're here with you. Thank you for being so open and honest. Sending loads of love your way.
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