I had a shower today and it felt pretty good. I’d forgotten I like them; it’s been six days since I showered, a fact I attribute to my obvious laziness.
I’m incredibly lazy at times, especially of late.
Not showering. Not brushing my teeth. Not even cooking – sandwich or cereal make up most of my meal choices, not counting the binges of the last two nights. I chalk those up to laziness too – too lazy to fight my eating disorder.
It’s been a stressful week during a stressful time of year, but I’m not letting that factor into my current reality.
I’m lazy and that’s that.
Except, as I was on my way to pick up a friend for coffee this morning – I’m making an effort to reconnect; I’ve been lazy about that too – a thought popped into my head (sometimes I wonder where random thoughts come from. Who generates them? It’s a puzzle).
At any rate, a thought occurred – how much of my current inertia is laziness and how much is depression?
Because depression makes people feel this way. It makes me feel this way. So why have I been spending so much time chastising myself for my lack of action? I know my mood has tanked. I know I’m struggling. Why am I refusing to give myself a break on the behavioural changes that come when the mood shifts?
Why do I lack grace?
I didn’t always use this particular stick. It’s new: maybe that’s why I didn’t notice I was attacking myself.
I’m not a lazy person.
Historically, I get shit done.
I’m the person who does what’s needed, who can always be counted on, and who can handle one more job, one more thing, one more wafer-thin mint. Or, rather, I used to be.
I’ve lost it. I lost it when I had my little breakdown in 2014. That’s a long time to be struggling. It feels like forever. You forget that there was a time when things were different. You forget that you used to handle stress. You forget that you used to shower, and do your hair, and get dressed every day. Self-criticism forgets to give credit where it’s due; it becomes global.
You’re lazy, and you’ve always been lazy.
I’m not taking very good care of myself right now. The depression and various personal problems leave me feeling overwhelmed. But I’m not lazy and I have to remember to counter that particular train of thought.
Depression makes the daily and mundane seriously hard. Everything is a mountain. Even starting is a challenge. Taking small steps feels monumental.
People mock the participation ribbon. Everyone gets them and so they’re seen as a celebration of mediocrity. But sometimes it’s important to get credit for playing the game.
I’m not lazy, I’m depressed, and I’m going to cut myself a break.