Dark Days

I have a confession to make.

I think I'm a little depressed.

Now I'm going to step out of myself, here. See me? I'm stepping right out of my post and I'm going to say, in a big, loud, clear voice, " Do not worry about me! I am fine, really! There is no need to be alarmed or call the cavalry! Seriously, this is just a short term thing I happen to be a little embarrassed about!"

On this blog every time I mention that I'm feeling blue I pay for it with hours of well intentioned emails and phone calls making sure I'm OK, or else I listen to another handful of people telling me I sound like I hate my life and I'm a negative person. I do not hate my life. I don't. Please don't freak out and have secret meetings about how to check me into a metal institution. I really am OK. I'm only a little bit down. Not as bad as this description here, which is one of my favorite descriptions of a battle with depression.

But I think I am a little depressed. 

It's to be expected, isn't it? Given the situation? In the past, when feel down, I can usually trace it back to something hormonal  or to something that has just happened - a fight, a death, the shampoo I use being discontinued... Things like that.

I'm not feeling holiday cheery. I mean, I am. I'm listening to the music and freaking out about shopping as always. I have the date set for getting a tree and the candles are in the window. I'm good. I'm doing the normal December stuff.

But... But...

It's just been so dark. And we've had a couple of days where the sun doesn't seem to come out at all. It's not cold - mid forties. But still, it seems colder. It's getting dark by the time the school bus drops the boys off. 
Even on the sunny days in between, I can seem to keep going. Oh, I'm waking up ok, and working out,still. I'm getting the kids on the bus and making sure they've got homework down and all that. I'm even pretty much keeping up with housework. And, of course, checking Job postings daily, just in case the perfect job is out there.

By the time I pick up Andy, I'm knackered. I need a nap. Andy takes forty minutes to eat his lunch, which is usually just a handful of goldfish crackers and a yogurt, while I eat enough to feed a small village. I don't mean to. I eat a small thing, but then he's still not done so I eat another small thing. Then I eat another small thing. By the time Andy's finished his lunch I've ingested half the groceries and need a nap.

And boy, have I been napping! I fall asleep and I don't want to get up. I want to stay in bed and stay in bed and sleep and sleep and sleep. Why should I even get out of bed, I ask?

Usually I have an answer. Because I need to pick up the boys from school and take them to karate. Or I need to to pack the piano bags, start making dinner, fold laundry so the boys will have pants in the morning... stuff like that. I mean, life doesn't stop, yo! I got stuff to do! I know this is a temporary feeling and I need to get over it.

It's just that the getting out of bed is hard. Really really hard. I'm sleeping too much during the day, not enough at night, and I've gained ten pounds in the past six months. I haven't been able to go to choir regularly. Because of Thanksgiving, I missed quite a few workouts. (It sounds obsessive, but they really get the gunk out of the emotional system.)

So...

I need a plan. I need a plan to become un-depressed. I don't think I'm so far gone that I can't snap myself out of it if I try. Work out (a little) more or harder. Eat less garbage (pie / cookies) and more kale. Get to bed earlier. This weekend we're buying a tree and decorating a gingerbread house. I'm going to make plans for the rest of the holiday, including helping the boys with shopping. I'm making it choir, and I'm singing on Christmas Eve. It's going to be a great December. 

See? Already I feel better. And now I'm going to get out of this bed, feed the boys and the pets, and hop of the treadmill for a nice long walk before Saturday Karate / therapy / playdate / gingerbread house decorating mayhem!