depression

Depression and its quirks

One of the things about depression and continues to get me and catch me off guard, is how, even on a really good day, the smallest of things can flip the tables on you. Everything seemed all right, great even. And you are suddenly grappling at the walls of this speedy, downward spiral to the pressing darkness of before, where breathing seems against the rules, red eyes are a necessity, and the muscles for smiles are anesthetized.

So, I didn’t manage to find a place for lunch today. But I did go sit in the sun and eat some snacks I’d happened to have with me, even though it was super windy (I found a spot on some stairs to hide a bit from the wind, so it was warm enough).
Post-a-day 2017

Winter, Wait – Weight, Workout

Tonight, at the gym, I did a workout class that I’ve been wanting to do for a while now. It was painfully hard, that class. And not necessarily because the workout is a difficult one. Yes, the workout was difficult and fast and rather nonstop. But the hardest part of it was how my usual self could have kept up with it.

Right now, I don’t even want to weigh myself, because I know I haven’t been gaining any muscles lately, and I have definitely gained a whole extra layer of fat throughout a good portion of my body. I have been through various weights, for sure, but I typically have a point which I never pass. I am almost certain that I am past that point now. I have never had the peeping of my belly be an issue before, because my belly has always looked nice. Even when it had extra weight to it, it was a nice, smooth, ladylike curve. It suggested a bit of plumpness to it, but still looked healthy. Today, when I raised my arms in a stretch at work, I was saddened by the sight. No longer do I have the cute belly peeping beneath the raised shirt. It isn’t terrible, of course, but cute and feminine are no longer ways to describe it.

So, in this workout class this evening, as I was in a tremendous physical and mental struggle, tears were brimming at one point. I initially thought to fight them off. But then I realized that that was exactly why I was here in the class – because this kind of thing is hard for me right now, and I want to deal with that. So, I let some tears have their say, and I put extra effort into what I was doing. I was lame and slow for a lot of it, I couldn’t even do one of the exercises (going to talk with the teacher about how it’s meant to be done, and see what stretching would help me best to do the exercise), and, by the end, my whole face was flushed and I could barely breathe or move. But I stuck it out. I even stayed for the relaxation yoga class afterward, even though I was exhausted (mentally, physically, and sleep-wise) and ready for bed.

I even talked with one of the girls afterward about my wanting to come more often to the gym, as well as my struggle to do so (being depressed really does suck). Today’s been a sort of up day for me, and I’m hoping to have a similar one tomorrow, so that I might start myself on a habit with going to the gym on days when I’m not already working just down the street from it.

Peace and Love, and Goodnight, folks. 😀

Post-a-day 2017

You seek to be my friend,

Though always prove to be the opposite.

Without you, yes, I would be better off.

But, with you, I am not so alone.

You, who are two-faced, if ever I saw it,

Convince me to wear your faces for you,

And call it company.

Post-a-day 2017

Music creates life

You know, music really can make life feel worth living.

These past few weeks have been really odd for me, and this week, especially, has been quite filled (to partial explosion) with stress, and an odd kind at that. This afternoon, as I had still two hours to fill, after what had felt like a day’s worth of work and several hours of painful efforts to sleep, I put on my jacket and rushed out into the hallways to get myself moving around, and in hopes of finding something to help pass the time, preferably involving movement (thus my vague plan of aiming for the gymnasium).

The music students are currently preparing solos (with piano accompaniment), and so I came across one of my lovelies (the Bass player) rehearsing in the hallway/student entrance area (there’s a piano there) with her accompanist. They welcomed me joyfully, and so I watched and hopped around (it was filthy cold) with semi-frozen delight for a bit.

They finished after not quite ten minutes, and so I wandered on my way toward the gym again. As I was making the final turn, I was caught by a trumpet and a couple clarinets (which was fine by me). One of them had told me that she wants to play with me, but our scheduled time for today had to be canceled, because she had to go home after rehearsal. But she was here now, and practicing…, so she dragged me in and got me to play a bit (though not together, since we only had one trumpet).

Then, when I thought they were all leaving, they told me to come with them upstairs to what turned out to be a brief a capella singing rehearsal. They were sopranos, so I got to stand with them and learn the soprano part to a very pretty Japanese song. It was almost spooky how cool it sounded and felt to be in the group, making such beautiful music.

Afterward, we established that one girl is crazy, and I declared my similar mental state. She and I, and others off and on, proceeded to dance around to the music of others rehearsing… we high fived as I was about to leave, as a sign of joint craziness and joy, and I said my goodbyes to the room, with lots of love in reply. I truly felt myself at home with this goofy group of musicians.

As I rushed out the door, and put back on my shoes, a flautist was in the hallway, next to my shoes. He excused himself, and I said, “Play!” Instantly, and with a smile and an “Okay,” he played part of his solo piece for me. It was beautiful.

And it was standing there in that freeing hallway, listening to this boy play flute, that the thought crossed my mind, unbitten, “Music really can make life worth living.”

As I have struggled with life lately, – and no, I don’t mean in the sense of giving up on life as a whole, but just on giving up on this part of life, living here and doing this job and all of that – what has gotten me through every time has been music. Sometimes it has been live music from these kids at school, or from the guitar I got as an early Christmas present last week. Sometimes it has been from Spotify or my music collection. And sometimes even just a single song that a friend sent me from YouTube.

Whatever the case, the source of my survival, my strength, my belief that this life is worth continuing and working at, despite its near-overwhelming hardships, has been music. I finally understand a bit what a friend of mine meant, when she said she felt like she had died, when she lost her hearing and, thereby, music. When I don’t have the music, I just get used to the solemn melancholy, the deafening silence of a lifestyle I don’t love – I grow accustomed to not living, and I despise the existence (but that all just becomes the norm). And when I do have the music, I am excited for today, for right now, and for what tomorrow might bring – I feel the life inside me and all around me, and I yearn to spread myself around and live to the fullest.

Music really does give life and make life worth living, even when it feels like you have nothing else for you.

I'm part of Post A Day 2016