unfortunately, it's true. on those days when I feel a bit better, things are easier to do, it's easier to imagine doing things, it's easier to want to do things.
other days, like today, well. I try not to beat myself up for not doing more. it's not like my mother has ever known a day of depression in her life. (that's her voice in my head, after all)
it's almost midnight. I've waited all day to take out the recycling. I'm going to put on shoes, and I'm going to take it out. I really, really am.
and I'll add:
I think. yes. shoes. recycling out. and then? then will you let me be?
let me be. let. be.
profound little imperative wish.
miserere is another way of putting it I think.
(I've actually been feeling a little better the last couple of days which means out of panic into utter apathy. I do think I can keep going but after a while one wearies of the constant grinding of bones against the uphill path. like. where's the flat part? they said there'd be a flat part. I'm going to see if it starts behind the recycling bin.)