However, all this stress is really taking its toll on me. In light of K2's mental struggles, my own depression is a walk in the park. And yet, I feel that depression, and its affects on my daily life, getting stronger and stronger. I'm battling my own dark hole, a yawning chasm that seems to be stalking me, lurking just out of sight around every corner. I cannot fall in that pit. How will I be there for the grandkids, and an acceptable caretaker in the sight of CPS, if I am in that pit?
And yet, often talking about depression is a very effective way of fighting it, of clawing my way up the walls of the pit, of gaining ground until the top is reached and firm footing once again achieved. What a catch 22. To talk is taboo (they can't know I'm less than perfect, flawed), yet to talk is often a solution.
On the assumption that I'm not alone in this frustrating vicious cycle of stress and depression, I'm going to choose to talk, albeit somewhat vague on details for the sake of privacy. Also, because it feels like I'm getting to the point where mental stress is piling up into physical breaking down of my body. Weight gain, digestive troubles, unsatisfactory sleep, lethargy. . . I bet you know the list. The symptoms. The feeling. The point at which it feels like dealing with other people is literally killing me.
When DH and I went away for a week in January, he made some startling and somewhat unsettling observations. I've been thinking a lot about them, which has led to some conclusions.
First observation, I rarely laugh. I did, more than once, spontaneously bust out in laughter while on vacation. Something I just don't do at home. That, in itself, is sad. Sad that on a day to day basis, I find few things to smile about, and even fewer things that create such joy in me as to generate a laughing response.
Second observation, I never want to try new things. I may very well be tired of my rut, but I am in no way open to the suggestion of something different. Truth be told, I'm afraid of wasting my precious time on what may likely be another unlikable/unhappy experience. On this past vacation, I actually relaxed enough that not only was I open to attempting what could possibly be an overwhelming social situation (actually walking on the chaotic Las Vegas Strip to see things like the Bellagio's fountain and the statues at Caesar's Palace) I even willingly tried new to me cuisine: we ate Indian and I loved it (although I confess we only ordered the least spicy sounding things on the menu). As soon we boarded the plane to come home, though, the funk enveloped me and I was back to shut-down mode.
A few things I wrote in my notebook about these feelings:
- frozen with fear of unpleasantness
- bundle of nerves, always anxious, no control over schedule
- If I do get 'a break' I feel like I must either catch up on all that I haven't been able to maintain in terms of housework, or I feel like I must do a "fun" task now, before the opportunity gets taken away from me. Yet, I never enjoy that "fun" task because of the 'do it now' aspect.
- a desperate need for creativity and physical outlets
Third observation, I don't have the stamina I had 5 years ago. Or even 2-3 years ago. I get out of breath so much easier. My body hurts. My head does too, more often than it should, and now my eyes seem to be joining the rebellion. Yes, my weight has increased quite a bit from what it was 5 years ago (when I was working out pretty much daily and even ran a 5k). It's not just the weight, though, because my weight has held pretty steady for the past 2 years while my breathing has gotten worse. Bad enough that I'm contemplating requesting an allergy test, because I suspect I've either developed allergies or asthma (both of which more than one of my offspring have, but I never did before). And if it's not allergies or asthma, then I have a lung problem, which is a scary prospect.
It was a rude awakening when, while hiking, DH commented that in another 5-10 years he and I probably wouldn't be able to get out and hike in places like we gravitate toward (the unpaved, steeper, more challenging trails). His point; we aren't in shape for it now, and we're only going to get older and more decrepit in the years to come.
Whoa. Old, I can't do anything about. But decrepit has never been on my itinerary. Especially not if we're talking somewhere between 2023 and 2028! I've said, more than once, that I don't want to die from some debilitating disease or waste away for years before my death. My preference has always been for a 'sudden and tragic' death. (Apparently when I went off that horse in December, DH feared my wish was about to come true.) A heart attack in my 80's, while riding my then favorite horse, is totally okay with me, as long as I'm gone before I fall off and hit the ground (because hitting the ground hurts, and the whole idea behind a sudden death is that it doesn't hurt. Fine one minute, gone--and blissfully unaware--the next). A heart attack at 46 (or 51 or 56) because I'm dealing with too much stress is absolutely not okay. Something's gotta change.
The weight is going to have to come off. Some of my go-to stress eating favorites are going to have to just not be made or otherwise brought into my house. I've never been a drinker, never understood the allure that it seems a lot of people find in alcohol, in daily drinks after work to help them relax. I do, however, find my fix in chocolate and other sweets. *sigh* In fact, I rarely will just drink a beer, glass of wine, or mixed drink by itself. No, I need food with it to find the alcohol desirable.
Finding time for regular exercise is going to have to happen somehow (although, during the times the grandkids stay with us nearly round the clock, I just don't know how feasible that will be; I can barely fit in time to go to work and next to no time for riding). Riding 4-5 times a week helps, but after a while, that becomes a set point and I need to add different types of exercise to it in order to continue weight loss. How to carve out 1-2 hours a day, every day, for sweat-inducing, heart-pounding exercise? Especially if the grandkids need to return to my care on short notice and for an unknown length of time?
So, I guess, if talking about my stress, my depression, is the only change I can make right now, because a lot of the sources of the stress and depression are out of my control (ahem, how other adult members of my family choose to behave), I'll have to work with what outlets I have.
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