I’m not dead, I just look that way.
For the past week or so we have been moving to a new (small, charming, disturbingly gas-scented) house, and despite Ian’s best efforts, our local internet provider has been astoundingly non-helpful about providing internet. This frees up heaps o’ time for unpacking , but leaves me feeling disconnected and more than 13,300 spam comments behind schedule.
Additionally, last week my depression evolved from a damn nuisance to posing a genuine threat. I blamed myself for skipping my meds for a week… … until I remembered that my only medications are for acne. Obviously, my thinking has been cloudy.
Just now, I realized that depression and moving are the same in some ways: my brain feels cluttered and hostile, as does my colossally messy new home. I can’t find anything in my head or in the new place, and I can’t afford possible solutions, whether counseling or bookshelves. No matter how carefully I sort things out, new messes crop up. There’s a big mural of God I’d just as soon do without. I keep thinking real life can start again once my home is in order, or once the pain stops, whichever comes first. But how many years have I been laboring under that delusion?
Perhaps this is why order and cleanliness have always been so important to me: I can’t manage my brain, but managing my environment helps discourage my brain from panicking and sending unsolicited “ABORT MISSION” messages. Environment has always had a MAJOR effect on me, so being trapped in a small, chaotic space is really, really hard.
For now, I’m in a holding pattern. We should have internet again on Thursday (or last Sunday, depending who you ask), so I don’t expect to be absent forever.
Yes, critics, I’ve subjected you to a LOT of talk about depression lately. I would feel bad for oversharing on the internet, but you already know all about my body hair, Diva cup, and old flames (which I just mistyped as “old lames.” HA!). What sensitive topic will I flog you with next?
if you have gas stove pilots may be turned up too high, hence the gas scent. I have experienced this mega times in rentals.
j
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I know what you mean about the mess making the mess in the head worse. I just read your depression posts, I wish you all the best!
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“….depression and moving are the same in some ways…”
Boy Howdy! That explains a lot about all our lives! Including my tendency, when feeling unhappy, to think I could magically fix everything by just moving Again.
It also explains why I spend most of my home time in the loft where I have some control over the environment, why I was fiercely and famously unhappy until I got rid of 80% of the stuff in the loft,
and why despite being smart enough, educated enough, and experienced enough for “better things” I tend to really LIKE cleaning jobs. I like order. I like creating order. Being paid to create order is a win-win for me.
You are a great source of insight my dear. Hope the unpacking goes quickly. Remember, your home is like your head….everything you need is in there, it’s just a matter of moving the junk out of the way to find the good stuff.
<3 <3 <3
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Just don’t give up trying. That’s the one resolution I think I can stick too. As bad as I’ve felt about not getting this thing done or that thing done or allowing myself to get fat again, I keep remembering that the story is not ever over unless I give up, and I don’t want it to end here, so I’m not going to give up trying to make my life better.
Let me know if you have time to go to lunch, or shopping, or anything!
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Ouch. (I kid. I know you don’t think I’m an old lame.) I think everyone on earth is moving right now. My brother is moving to Philadelphia, and he had to move several months before everyone else. Sigh, any move is terrible.
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I know what you mean about moving…right before Mike and I signed the papers, I almost started crying thinking about the mess it was going to be, and how much there was to do, and how I was definitely not up to the task and I’d have to do it anyway and be exhausted and angry, etc. etc. May the move be as swift and painless as possible, Miz Jaunty, and I have the greatest wishes in my heart for you re: depression. Do what you gotta do.
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“Old lame”–ha!
Moving is the worst, the absolute worst. It’s why I stayed in my old, sunless apartment for eight years too long, which contributed to my depression, and who can move when depressed? Exactly. Point is, my sympathy is with you on moving. And my empathy is with you on depression in general. It’s not easy, but I urge you to be as kind to yourself as you’re able. Truly kind. You know the type.
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jean – Ian’s been fixing the pilot lights. Either the smell’s improved, or my sense of smell has died.
Franca – Thank you, Franca! Say hi to Milo for me.
Rapunzel – You’ve turned your loft into such a comfortable nest— bloom where you’re planted, eh?
hazelnutmegan – “I keep remembering that the story is not ever over unless I give up…” This is excellent advice.
grackle – Old lame, I didn’t mind moving when I was a single gal. Moving TWO people’s stuff is much, much worse than twice as bad. I can only imagine moving a whole family…. good luck to your brother!
Mia – You lived to tell about it! That’s good news. Maybe the new place will have some fantastic photo-taking spot?
Autumn – Thank you. I know you understand. This reminds me— I buy my women’s magazines second-hand, and two days ago I saw your name and article in the April 2012 Marie Claire! I squealed like a happy piglet. What a story!
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