Answering the Phone
The phone rings. I have no idea who it is. There’s no way I’m answering. This may seem rather ho-hum in this context. In this day and age, most people aren't going to risk that telemarketing scam or inconvenient collection call. However, even when I know who it is, chances are I’m not going to pick up either unless I’m in the right head-space. That panicky feeling of dread just seeps through any logic I might have had about a simple phone call. Returning calls is even worse. I just don’t want to deal with it.
Answering the Door
Yeah, not happening unless I’m expecting you. Even then, if there’s anyone else around who can deal with the pizza delivery person or the landlord’s scheduled repair visit, I’ll do just about anything I can to make it happen. My knee-jerk reaction to a knock on the door or the intrusive sound of the buzzer is to run and hide. The logical part of my mind knows how ridiculous this is but sadly, it has no real power.
When the shit river of depression runs deep, I just can’t be arsed. Now, I think it’s worth noting that my hygiene doesn't suffer; showering, brushing teeth, application of deodorant, etc. are never off the table. When it comes to shaving, eyebrow-tweezing, fingernail trimming, and putting any effort into my hair beyond brushing, I can’t always be bothered to care. When I feel like shit, I don’t really care if I look like shit. That said...
If I could shower 3-4 times I day, I would. Hell, sometimes I do. There are times when all I need is to stand there, behind a shower curtain, in my dim, steamy little cave, shut off from the world, and just be warm. I often wonder if it's some sort of "regressing back into the womb" thing. I stand there with the water running as hot as I can stand it until my skin is lobster-red and my muscles are gelatinous. Then, I do it again.
Unless I have somewhere I need to be that requires some degree of effort (work, school, appointments), I wear whatever I slept in. As long as it isn't dirty or ripped, I have no problems running to the store looking like a lazy slob. That said…
Leaving the House
Sometimes, I feel sorry for my family and friends. I go through periods of time where it’s pretty much impossible to get me out of the house unless I absolutely must (work, school, hospital, groceries, etc.). Even then, if there’s a way out of it, you can be sure I’ll try. I can barely stand social situations, especially in public and I try to keep those outings as far and few in between as possible. It’s also a challenge when there are guests in the home who aren't there to visit with me and I’m expected to entertain or explain why I’m so quiet or not smiling like a fool.
Cleaning the House
I’m a procrastinator whether I’m feeling anxious, depressed, or ecstatic. Be that as it may, when I’m feeling low, it’s damn near impossible to care. Dishes get done, food is properly stored, the cats are tended to, but that’s about it. In general, my motivation to do anything, even thing I enjoy, is sorely lacking.
Aches and Pains
As a direct result of my anxiety and depression, I suffer from tension headaches that tend to quickly graduate to violent migraines. I have a bad stomach and sometimes indigestion and acid reflux are a result. I compulsively chew at my fingers when I’m not paying attention to myself. Medications help, but the problems will always be there. There was a time when I'd repeatedly binge and purge, but now I just eat my feelings. Baby steps, right?
Sometimes, life just feels like too much work. It’s exhausting, mentally, physically, and spiritually. More often than not, I wish I could take a break or even quit. When dealing with difficult social situations such as a nasty boss or colleague, I get by sometimes by reminding myself that I can quit at any time. Nothing’s written in stone and I owe it to myself to do what it takes to retain some semblance of sanity.