I observe myself.
I notice my behavior and my environment. I become conscious of my responses. I dream there is someone I don't like sleeping in my bed.
I put all this information together and then define it: it is depression.
Or at least, I think it is. I go over the data again.
My personal signs of depression
1. Clutter
I have stopped trying to do anything about the chaos in my rooms. Two or three weeks ago I cared a lot, I even sought out an online support forum where the people were caring and very helpful with suggestions. At that time, still experiencing pain on exertion after surgery, I was highly frustrated by my inability to make any headway toward my goal of having an organized and clutter-free living space. The ladies of the Get Organized Now! forum encouraged me to use my recovery time to work on creating a master list and planning for the time when my strength returned. I managed to come up with a sensible plan for dealing with email.
Now I observe that I have not even read most of my new email for days. I have over 1,000 unread emails. Some of them are undoubtedly important.
As for physical clutter, it grows and grows. Another email I received told me one of my credit cards was about to expire, and the company needed the new expiration date to continue charging my long-distance bill automatically. Problem: unopened mail is spread all over the place, wherever there was room to dump it. Although I have made small efforts to separate out bills from the rest, I have not seen the new credit card arrive. It may be here, or it may be late. I spent five minutes pawing through the stacks of catalogs, junk mail and envelopes. Did not find the new card. Gave up.
The last load of laundry I did - when was that? - was never even taken out of the basket. I've been pulling socks and underwear out of it ever since. Now the basket is nearly empty. My hamper is overflowing. The only reason dirty laundry is in the hamper and not on the floor is so I don't trip over it.
A week ago I cut my foot when I walked into the metal clip of a clipboard that turned up on the floor beside my office chair. I don't even know how it got there.
2. Obligations
A week ago Wednesday I said, "I'll get some more grass seed before next Wednesday." I had Thursday off but did not run this errand. On Friday I said, "I'll get some more peanuts for the squirrels over the weekend." Saturday and Sunday went by and I never left the house. Most of last week I kept saying I was going to wash my hair today. When I don't wash my hair often enough, my scalp starts to itch terribly. Even in spite of the discomfort, I didn't actually do it until Monday morning.
Money obligations: For years I have had a set schedule of paying the bills and balancing the checkbooks for my mother and me every Saturday morning. Since surgery, I haven't even thought of doing this on Saturdays. Bills that are regularly scheduled in Microsoft Money have mostly been paid on time, but unscheduled bills are sitting in the tray waiting for attention. (It doesn't help that Money 2003, which is new to me, is simply dreadful.)
More responsibilities: I made a commitment - to myself and to you - to stick to the South Beach Diet and to report daily on my progress. My diet diary shows how poorly I stuck to the diet - and the diary itself went silent after two weeks. One day this week I took just a couple of apples and a jar of peanut butter to work for lunch. Yesterday when I went into the kitchen to make a lunch salad, it was as if I had walked into a wall. I wanted to go back to bed, or cry, or go to work with no lunch and starve, rather than make a simple salad. My mother volunteered to make me a sandwich.
I forget to take my meds, or take them hours late. For a week or so I stopped taking supplements altogether - vitamins, fish oil, calcium and coenzyme Q-10 - and just took meds when I remembered. The other pills were too much trouble.
3. Escaping
Years ago, a typical sign of depression for me was to find myself playing endless games of solitaire, hours at a time. Now playing cards have been replaced by computer games. For the last several days, nearly all my free time has been spent either sleeping or immersed in Three the Hard Way*. Don't get me wrong, it's a great computer game - but it shouldn't be the only thing in my life worth doing. It takes me out of myself, gives me a focus, makes everything else go away. It's pulling the covers up over my head and shutting out the real world.
4. Overreacting
I notice that I am more impatient than usual when driving. I'm changing lanes more often. I'm more angry at idiots going below the speed limit.
I read a well-intentioned email that points out in one word some shortcomings of this web site. After reading it, I feel that all the work I have done here for the last five years was third-rate and that I will never do any better. The email haunts me.
*Note: Due to language and adult content, "Three the Hard Way" is not recommended for children.
