Pavlina: Life is Not For the Living

Is it depression? You know, I’m not sure. We all get bombarded with so many ads on the television trying to cure us of depression and anxiety. I often wonder, are that many people truly depressed? Is it more of a problem these days that it was before? There must be a lot of money in the pharmaceutical market for “feel” good drugs.

Personally speaking, I don’t like taking medication. Sure, I’ll take an Advil when I get a headache, a Claritin when my allergies act up, and I take medicine for my asthma and allergies everyday in the form of a mouth and nasal inhaler, respectively. I am a bit leery to take something that can modify my entire personality, but if my personality needed modification….

I was in a bit of a funk the last few days. I think it was initially brought on my poor Martin getting too friendly with some poison ivy. He already has the most sensitive skin of anyone in the family so it really hit him hard. Of course he would scratch in his sleep and wake up crying from the pain. Poor guy. This meant for like three nights in a row I got very little uninterrupted sleep. It was beginning to feel like back in the days of babies where I actually would dread going to bed at night because I knew I wouldn’t get any sleep. The thing about me and sleep is this: I need lots of it. Like 8 hours minimum and I am always willing to get more. So after three nights of little sleep I was getting psychotic anyway. Then I still had poor little Martin to look after, the Nanny was being a complete idiot (sorry, must be said) and was wearing latex gloves and I overheard her telling Martin not to touch her. WTF? See, I get all mad and seeing red just thinking about it. I can add it to the list of things she does that I find completey pointless and ridiculous. Of course, we are all entitled to these small acts, but you know.

I got a bit sidetracked there. So I’m tired, Martin is sick, Nanny is an idiot, Jason is in Asia, washing machine breaks. Damn. I remember at one point Sunday morning, sitting on the floor of my bedroom and I was so tired. It was like depression (or whatever it was I was going through) was a large fluffy bed and I was on it fighting to get out and stay awake. The feeling/bed just was so nice and comfy that it was overwhelming me. Like that. “Damn,” I thought. I got up and went about my business, but I never even left the house on Sunday (yesterday). I didn’t even do any laundry (couldn’t, washing machine is broke). I did clean the floors…and that was it. Couldn’t even be bothered to make dinner. We had leftovers.

Whenever I get to feeling this way, I always wonder why? Why now? I got too much to do. I had promised the kids I would take them to the aquarium, but I never did. The kids ended up watching hours and hours of TV, and I couldn’t even be bothered to feel bad about it.

Maybe I was just tired…I don’t know. I’ll let you know what works.

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