Day by Day

Sometimes, the way I feel changes so quickly that I don't realize it's happened.

I have days when I feel so confident and sure about myself. I feel like my hair is pretty or my shirt fits just right or my words are coming out witty, friendly and thoughtfully. I feel like I'm helping people at work or that I've really made progress on a project. I smile a lot on those days. I sing along to the radio and tap the steering wheel as I drive to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel loved, liked, needed and appreciated. Those are good days.

I have days when I feel so insecure and unsure about myself. I feel like my hair is greasy or my shirt is emphasizing my fat rolls or my words are stumbling around inside my mouth, unable to escape in articulate sentences. I feel like I'm in the way of other people or that I've failed on a project. My brow is furrowed a lot on those days. I drive in silence to and from wherever it is I'm going. I feel invisible, a nuisance, in the way and pointless. Those are not good days.

I forget I have depression sometimes. I'll be going along with my life things-- work, home, friends, etc. and then it covers me like a wool blanket. I wrack my brain trying to figure out why, making myself.  I usually get mad at first. Mad at having depression. Mad at the fact that I somehow forget every time. Mad at that feeling of being covered in not good days.

The voice of self doubt starts screaming so loudly that it becomes all I hear. I try to reason with it, tell it (myself) that everything is ok. I'm not worthless, or stupid, or a failure. I'm going to be ok, I say. I seek friends that will say it too. But I'm covered completely now in the depression and the only thing that really works for me is time. Restlessness stirs with the self doubt--Why does it always seem to take so long to wade through this? 

I feel paranoid, like nothing I am doing is right. I'm hypersensitive and jumpy. I can't focus on anything to stay busy or distracted from myself and I obsess on the smallest infractions. The worst part is that while my brain is spinning, there is a small section that stays still and clear, knowing all of these feelings are irrational and I can't stop them.

I never know how long it will take but eventually I remember that this is just the way my brain works sometimes. Usually that helps me come out from underneath the wool blanket. On days I'm tired of fighting it, I bury farther into it, reluctant now to let it go because it's familiar. Because it's hard to be strong. Those are bad days that easily seep into weeks.

Slowly, acceptance of my dis-ease comes. The voice of clarity shouts over the doubt and I can throw the blanket to the side like a matador's cape. On that day I will play steering wheel music and problem solve like a boss. I will notice how long my hair is and that my shirt is comfortable against my skin. I'll smile a lot and feel accomplished, proud at the efforts I make. The good days will return.