Another day, the very same list looks completely different to me. My coffee and I stare at it, and it seems utterly impossible.
Calling the bank- too much talking, and how in the world can I do that with these kids in my kitchen?
I can't handle paying bills. Too much thinking; they'll interrupt, and I'll yell.
An email. A text message. A child with a need. Each thing hits me almost like an assault, another thing I must try to respond to when I have no energy to respond to anything.
I bring the basket of laundry up the stairs, and I wish I could take a nap. Right here on the living room floor, even.
Like this, but not quite as cute.
Your body simply insists that you lay down. You move from the bed to the couch, and it feels like you've just run a marathon. You could no more talk yourself into hopping on the treadmill than you could talk yourself into sprouting wings.
Sometimes my body also insists that I lie down when this kind of depression hits. Other times, my body feels ok, but my mind just simply cannot handle responding to anything. My mind feels like my body does when it is sick. Fatigued. Exhausted. Foggy.
Answering an email makes me feel like I have run a mental marathon.
I'd like to go somewhere and hide. And just let my mind do this: