Deep.

I hate having to explain myself. Mostly because I suck at explaining most things. Not depression though. Odd.

Most mornings, I wake up at the bottom of a dark hole. I can’t see the sun, and I just want to lie there. R stirs, wails, and I will myself out of bed. The rest of the day is me trying to claw my way out of this hole, all I want is to see the sun. Most days, I get there. I exercise, and I feel better. I lay on the floor with R and play and laugh, I see the light come over the edge of the hole. Most days, I go to bed, exhausted, but out of the hole, soaking up the sun. Most days.

Then, there are the days nothing I do gets me even close to the light. The days I put R in his jumper more often, or nap when he naps. The days I don’t comb my hair, or I stay in pajamas til 4pm. Then I realize it’s time to cook dinner, and that is the only thing that makes me start to climb the sides of the hole I’m in. Cooking is my happy place. I put R in his high chair, put some toys on the tray for him to play with, and wheel him into the kitchen with me. I play the Pandora station he likes, and talk to him about what I’m doing. He smiles his lovely gummy smile at me, and all is good.

All is peaceful.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s