My son is safely off with my MIL who picked him up a few hours ago to go see “Rogue One”. I’m only hoping this outing goes better than the last couple of movie outings she picked him up for because while she took him to movies he THOUGHT he wanted to see, he ended up thinking they sucked. And because my son is my son and has zero filter from his brain to his mouth, he said they sucked. Loudly. And because my son is my son and tends to be rather oblivious to other people’s feelings, he didn’t see how hurt his grandmother was by the fact that she tried to do something nice for him and he said it sucked.
It’s the last afternoon before the very last night of a very terrible, horrible, no good sort of year. I’ve been struggling so much this year with my depression and anxiety. I’ve been TRYING to handle it by exercising and trying to be creative and doing the things I normally would do to fix this shit. But so far, depression is winning and as much as I hate the idea, I might have to go back on an antidepressant to climb out of this hole even though I really REALLY do not want to do that.
I know I need to change and I feel like I’ve been trying but I’m so bogged down with feeling totally exhausted all the freaking time and the deep feeling of overwhelming meh-ness that always comes with depression for me.
I’ve got to bootstrap my butt out of this though. I mean, what would my grandmother and her grandmother and the long line of strong mountain women who came before them say? They’d tell me I’m being a whiny baby and I need to stop whining and just GET ON WITH IT. That’s what they’d say. And I’m TRYING. I am trying as hard as I can, but clearly as hard as I can isn’t hard enough. I need to try harder.
I guess it’s time to put on my big girl pants and get to it.