What Am I Doing?

Life's been pretty busy between building my new jewelry business, working part time at the bookstore, watching my grandsons one day a week, and keeping the home fires burning. Not to mention, the writing group I co-facilitate and the book project we are working on there. Then my former self-employed hubby has picked up a side job as project manager for a new restaurant set to open sometime this summer and that has me running errands again. Yes, life is a little busy. I don't have time for depression or anxiety or fibromyalgia to interfere with things. But it does. 

With my husband leaving the house an hour earlier most mornings, I find myself stumbling around, coffee cup in hand, feeling sleep deprived and out of sorts. When I give in to the lure of the still warm rumpled blankets on the bed and crawl under them I find the delicious cocoon my mind and body craves. I doze and awaken to sunshine sneaking through the cracks of the curtain, or the sounds of raindrops splattering against the windows. Sleep cycle disrupted again I struggle the rest of the day to find my rhythm. It's frustrating. Walking daily seems like a distant memory, something someone did a long time ago but I can't remember who or why. I force myself to push past fibro-pain, cloudy thinking and loss of passion for most things. People annoy me and the thought of engaging in conversation is so overwhelming I can't even ....

I lay on my bed a lot and flick aimlessly through apps on my phone.I ask myself if I need to talk to the doctor about changing my anti-depressant or do something different.  It's worrisome. 

But on the mornings when things seem to fall into place and I do find my rhythm it's glorious! I stay awake, I throw a load of laundry in the wash and scrub down the counters and swoosh a mop across the floors. I go for a walk and I snap pictures left and right of everything I see. I breathe deep and I listen for cues that nudge me here or there. I work my business and study to make it better. I go to work with a smile and energy. I have my list of things to do and I knock it out of the park. I think "life is amazing and so am I". And at the end of the day I wonder what made it different from the day before? 

Depression is a thief. It steals my joy, my energy, my creativity. Anxiety is a rope that ties me to a chair and holds me prisoner in my room. Physical pain is crippling and only feeds my depression more. In those darkest moments I seek out the Psalms and feel David's anguish as he pours out his soul. 

These things I remember as I pour out my soul... Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, my salvation and my God.