One of my favourite depression blogs/advocates is the guy who Lilo's down the Waikato river. Here is his latest post all about the things he does to manage his depression.
What I really like about his approach is that he doesn't take his depression personally. He approached getting well in quite a practical way. He doesn't believe in endless navel gazing. Instead he does stuff that helps him feel better.
So here is his recipe for wellness.
http://www.livemoreawesome.com/how-i-deal-with-my-depression/
I am a woman, wife, mother, sister, daughter, auntie, friend... living in beautiful New Zealand. This blog is an evolving record of my journey as I navigate through life. Current hot topics are motherhood, depression, christian faith, living sustainably and anything else which takes my fancy.
Monday, 9 September 2013
Saturday, 7 September 2013
May! It has sure been a while...
I think about blogging almost every day. And then my day happens and at the end I can barely string together a couple of grunts in the general direction of hubby so writing something meaningful and real just doesn't happen.
But I kind of left you hanging...
So relapse has passed. The magic of another 20mg of paroxitine has done its work and my head appeared above the darkness again. And off I went.
And then the roof started leaking. According to my Dad it was a torrential down pour onto the kitchen bench. I would describe it as more of an incessant drip. And as the drips dropped my fate was sealed. Full time work.
You see home ownership seems to have a huge power over my destiny at present and thankfully I was able to get full time work at my current school. We now have a regrouted roof, complete with waterproof coating and ceiling and underfloor insulation. It is like our home has a lovely blanket wrapped around it.
And as part of the process of full time work there has also been the arrival of the 18 year old German au pair. We are settling into a new way of being in our home. Settling probably isn't the right word. I guess squirming and wriggling around to get to a new place that feels comfortable and "normal". I love having an adult at home when I get there and the kids love her, but it is a process and I am so aware of this other person and their needs and I can no longer just assume and know how we do things around here.
I have also dived into being more involved in my local parents centre. I have been passionate about parent education for a long time, even before having kids and my involvement in the local branch came about through my interest in child birth education. It is really satisfying to be part of an organisation that is committed to providing high quality, evidence based, education to parents and it ticks a lot of boxes for me. I love to be involved in things like this and it suits my strengths. Unfortunately, time is not on my side so life is feeling very full. And it feels like some things are being accidentally dropped.
Full time work is really impacting on our family life and home. Every day is a treadmill work out, trying to run fast enough to avoid being thrown off the back of it. I am hyper aware of everyone elses needs and all my responsibilities and my needs seems to be endlessly negotiable. Down to eating and going to the toilet. Optional extras I might squeeze in on a strangely quiet day.
When I am working, I love it.
When I am at home I want to be here more.
When I am hosting antenatal classes or hosptial tours I feel fulfilled.
But my hubby gets the worst of me. When I am empty and the self neglect is taking its toll.
I have been feeling so annoyed at myself for being so jolly pollyanna about everything I ever get involved in. Everything seems a worthy cause, I am always having these great ideas and wanting to do it all.
And then I find myself grumpy and burnt out and realising as I walk around the school vege garden, that my soul is parched and I am as shrivelled up inside as a prune. Just the simple act of picking some lettuce for my sandwich has such a profound impact on me. Like an oasis in a desert. Actually make that a puddle. But if it all the water you have seen in days, it may as well be a lake.
And I just keep hoping that my strength will last, and the creeping anxiety, the procrastinating about going to bed, the heart palpitations that strike whenever I try to relax, will somehow turn into nothing. But I have been hear before and this is a familiar story and so I know where this will end up. And I cannot have another relapse.
So I am trying to simplify. Get back to the things that feed me. Like wrestling with the kids on our bed, or choosing to read a nice book instead of watch crap t.v. Or to go outside and feed the chickens instead of dashing around trying to clean.
And I am recognising that I feel quite lost. It seems that over the last few years my landscape has shifted. I am uncertain about so much. I keep doing what I think I believe in. And hoping that if I do lots then somehow I will find my way back to some peace or rest. But I haven't and I don't thing I will. At least not doing it this way.
I was reading today and the book was talking about the peace of letting go, not planning, just asking. standing still. And all of me wanted to put down my burdens, lie down, and rest.
Not sure how that can happen. But if I don't choose to, then I think I will find myself falling down and unable to get up.
But I kind of left you hanging...
So relapse has passed. The magic of another 20mg of paroxitine has done its work and my head appeared above the darkness again. And off I went.
And then the roof started leaking. According to my Dad it was a torrential down pour onto the kitchen bench. I would describe it as more of an incessant drip. And as the drips dropped my fate was sealed. Full time work.
You see home ownership seems to have a huge power over my destiny at present and thankfully I was able to get full time work at my current school. We now have a regrouted roof, complete with waterproof coating and ceiling and underfloor insulation. It is like our home has a lovely blanket wrapped around it.
And as part of the process of full time work there has also been the arrival of the 18 year old German au pair. We are settling into a new way of being in our home. Settling probably isn't the right word. I guess squirming and wriggling around to get to a new place that feels comfortable and "normal". I love having an adult at home when I get there and the kids love her, but it is a process and I am so aware of this other person and their needs and I can no longer just assume and know how we do things around here.
I have also dived into being more involved in my local parents centre. I have been passionate about parent education for a long time, even before having kids and my involvement in the local branch came about through my interest in child birth education. It is really satisfying to be part of an organisation that is committed to providing high quality, evidence based, education to parents and it ticks a lot of boxes for me. I love to be involved in things like this and it suits my strengths. Unfortunately, time is not on my side so life is feeling very full. And it feels like some things are being accidentally dropped.
Full time work is really impacting on our family life and home. Every day is a treadmill work out, trying to run fast enough to avoid being thrown off the back of it. I am hyper aware of everyone elses needs and all my responsibilities and my needs seems to be endlessly negotiable. Down to eating and going to the toilet. Optional extras I might squeeze in on a strangely quiet day.
When I am working, I love it.
When I am at home I want to be here more.
When I am hosting antenatal classes or hosptial tours I feel fulfilled.
But my hubby gets the worst of me. When I am empty and the self neglect is taking its toll.
I have been feeling so annoyed at myself for being so jolly pollyanna about everything I ever get involved in. Everything seems a worthy cause, I am always having these great ideas and wanting to do it all.
And then I find myself grumpy and burnt out and realising as I walk around the school vege garden, that my soul is parched and I am as shrivelled up inside as a prune. Just the simple act of picking some lettuce for my sandwich has such a profound impact on me. Like an oasis in a desert. Actually make that a puddle. But if it all the water you have seen in days, it may as well be a lake.
And I just keep hoping that my strength will last, and the creeping anxiety, the procrastinating about going to bed, the heart palpitations that strike whenever I try to relax, will somehow turn into nothing. But I have been hear before and this is a familiar story and so I know where this will end up. And I cannot have another relapse.
So I am trying to simplify. Get back to the things that feed me. Like wrestling with the kids on our bed, or choosing to read a nice book instead of watch crap t.v. Or to go outside and feed the chickens instead of dashing around trying to clean.
And I am recognising that I feel quite lost. It seems that over the last few years my landscape has shifted. I am uncertain about so much. I keep doing what I think I believe in. And hoping that if I do lots then somehow I will find my way back to some peace or rest. But I haven't and I don't thing I will. At least not doing it this way.
I was reading today and the book was talking about the peace of letting go, not planning, just asking. standing still. And all of me wanted to put down my burdens, lie down, and rest.
Not sure how that can happen. But if I don't choose to, then I think I will find myself falling down and unable to get up.
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