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 doing a stellar job on my teeth. Not really cooking – sandwiches and cereal make up most of my meals, not counting the binges of the last two nights. I chalk those up to laziness too – too lazy to make the effort to fight my eating disorder.
It’s been a stressful week 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 these random thoughts come from. Who generates them? It’s a puzzle).
At any rate, a thought occurred – how much of my inertia is laziness and how much is depression?
Because I know depression makes people this way. I know it makes me this way. So why have I been spending so much time of late 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?
I didn’t always use this particular stick. It’s new; maybe that’s why I didn’t notice I was attacking myself.
Because I’m not really a lazy person.
Historically, I get shit done.
I’m the person does what’s needed, who can always be counted on, who can handle one more job, one more thing, one more wafer-thin mint. Or, I was.
I lost it. I lost it the ability when I had my little breakdown four years back. 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. This is completely true. I’m depressed, and personal problems are leaving me feeling overwhelmed. But I’m not lazy and I have to remember to counter that particular train of thought.
Depression makes the everyday and the mundane brutally hard. Everything is a mountain. Even starting the journey is a challenge. Taking small steps feels monumental.
People mock the participation ribbon. Everyone gets them and so they’re seen as being, at best, a celebration of mediocrity. But I think 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.
And give myself a ribbon for doing so.