Tag Archives: depression

Why Bother Getting Out of Bed?


I awoke at 7.30 this morning. Unlike some mornings I wasn’t sad or crying but rather I wasn’t feeling anything at all. I sat up and took a sip of my iced tea (I always have a glass by my bed at night). Still not feeling anything. I lit up a cigarette and began pondering. How did I feel physically? Was I ready to get up for the day or did I need to go back to sleep? Neither question had any clear answer attached. I continued to ponder the pros and cons of getting up and those of going back to sleep.

Part of me could envision drifting back to sleep in the hope that when I awakened later I would have answers to those questions. Like I would somehow magically be filled with energy and excitement about the day ahead. I would get up with gusto and make a darned good start on all the millions of “To Do’s” on my ever expanding list. Things would get done; rooms would get clean, the laundry would get washed, the rubbish would magically relocate to the big bins outside. I would possibly even tackle the grass out back that desperately needs to be cut or I’d tend to the plants which have been neglected for about 2 months. Oh and my sink would become devoid of dirty dishes and would sparkle from a thorough cleaning. Just thinking of all this began to wear me out. I looked about my room at saw all the clothes that still hadn’t been put away after washing, the bin overflowing with rubbish, the dirty windows, the laundry bin and my mood began to sink. This made the idea of getting up seem even less appealing. If I couldn’t countenance going back to sleep and having the energy to do anything then how could I do it without a few extra zzz’s?

I was halfway through the cigarette and feeling despondent. There was nothing I had to do this day (I rarely ever have anything I have to do) and no one counting on me. This has been a difficult aspect of living alone to cope with as I’ve always had people depending on me. As a result, I have never had to make decisions purely for me. Thanks to depression and a marriage which pretty much squashed my fragile confidence, I don’t value myself enough to make good choices when it comes to how to spend my time. I tend to waste my days escaping into books or the television. My mind is constantly battling with the question “Why expend your little energy doing that when it’s only you here?”. Inevitably, it convinces me to not bother as there is simply to much for one person to do. Well for one person who has physical and mental health problems.

Years of depression have left the house in dire need of a deep clean from top to bottom. Those years have also sapped my energy and lowered my stamina to nearly zero. As mentioned before, I can get exhausted just thinking of all that needs to be done.

Lights cigarette #2. Still in bed. Still deciding whether to get up or not.

The silence of the house hits me. I am truly alone. The only things I can hear are coming from strangers outside. Their cars driving by, the neighbour in his garden and someone walking past either speaking to their companion or on their phone. My bedroom is at the back of the house so I couldn’t eavesdrop even if I wanted to. I don’t. I don’t want to risk hearing that their on their way to meet up with a friend or how they’re looking forward to doing something or seeing someone later. That they have a life and people in it. I turn my ears off and my mind drifts back to my past.

While in my first marriage, I was a housewife for a time and I developed a schedule for my weeks. At the time I had my husband, two children and my mother lived with us. I had a purpose, a reason to get up. I would see my husband off to work and my children to school. I would actually dress for the day (and not in sloppy baggy pants paired with whatever to I found that suited the weather). I dressed as if going to work and viewed my role as housewife as just that – my job. I had my cleaning rota (a room a day), a menu for meals, laundry schedule and errands all planned out for the week. I allowed some time for my hobbies (sewing and making jewellery) but my main focus was on running the house and raising my children. So this worked very well for me back then (but any attempts to do this in recent years has failed due to lack of motivation). I kept busy and at the end of the day my children and husband would return home and fill the house with life once again. I didn’t have time to be lonely, depressed or sad. I had the life I wanted and felt it was rich. When your mind drifts to the past like that, it’s easy to think of it as perfect. It’s hard to remember the negatives as you tend to focus on the aspects that you miss and wish you still had. It is a very slippery slope for one with depression.

Luckily, I couldn’t go far down that route because my hips began to hurt from sitting in the bed. They don’t like being in the same place for very long no matter what position I am in (sitting, standing, lying down). I gave in to the call of sleep and laid back down with the intention of drifting off thus delaying having to find those elusive answers. But I couldn’t settle. My mind had begun it’s daily chatter that plagues me every waking moment. It is relentless in it’s judgements, commentary and harsh taunting. It constantly second guesses every little thing I do making me feel incapable of doing anything. It persistently says “You will screw that up” especially if I am doing something out of my comfort zone (which is reading and watching telly). As I type this, it is commenting on every typo I make.

I got my phone out and tried to Google “why bother getting out of bed”. All the results centred on finding a job or volunteering. I cannot do either right now. I don’t if I will ever be able to do those things. I cannot be reliable enough to turn up. If I’m having a bad day (physical or mental) I can barely manage to exist.

I go to light a third cigarette and stop myself. The pain in my hips is too bad to stay put any longer.

So, I got up. I threw on some pyjama bottoms and made my way down the stairs. I made a coffee and let the dog out (I’m currently dog sitting). I glanced over Face Book then began writing this. I still have no idea what to do with my day. I would like to think I will fill my time doing meaningful things but wouldn’t be willing to hold my breath on that happening. These days I have to rest often in between doing things and those rests have a tendency to last far longer than I intend.

This is a brief glimpse into a typical morning for me. There is so much more that has gone on in my head but it include it all would only confuse the reader. Mine is not a mind any would want to delve too deeply into for it is a chaotic place where thoughts swirl about as if trapped in a tornado.

Psaryce x

The Need For Others


So I have been doing a lot of introspective thinking and analysing lately. I’ve been trying to get out of another rut of depression to be honest. Problem was I didn’t even realise I was in quite as deep as I actually was. I thought it was just my usual winter-hibernation mode that I go through annually. But in talking to some people, I realised it was more than just being introverted.

Thanks go first to my soul sister Lesley for telling me what’s what. Despite being in severe pain, she talked with me through some things and brought to light some simple home truths. Basically she kind of gave my a kick up the bum and told me off. Sometimes I really need that and am so grateful that she does this for me. She pointed out that the depression had its grip on me again and that I needed to do battle against it. I love our relationship. I love that she can see what I need and tell me. Not dithering or dancing about the subject – just straight forward advice that is much appreciated.

Thanks also go to my sister Donna. We share a lot of similar issues in our lives and so can really relate to one another. Again we have an openness that allows us to speak freely. But where Lesley is straightforward speaking, Donna is more of an analyst. She asks probing questions and gets me thinking about things from a fresh perspective. In speaking with Donna, my mind is challenged to think about things in a different way. This opens up further opportunities for me. It expands my thinking and therefore allows me to grow.

To goes to show, me at least, the value of having the right people in your life. Ones who balance you out. Ones who can be tough with you when needed, ones ho can open your mind. Neither of these conversations were simplistic but were both deep and meaningful. I cannot say in words just how grateful I am to have these two beautiful women in my life. I value our relationships to no end. Thank you both.


Psaryce x


On Regrets


Most of my life I never had any feelings of regret. All that had happened, all I had done had lead to where and who I was. How could I regret any of my decisions when they gave me 3 beautiful children? Lack of regrets didn’t mean I was happy, it just meant that I understood that I wouldn’t have my children.

In the years since my last marriage broke down, as I have been on my own and learning more about myself, small doubts and some big regrets have crept into my mind. Over choices I made, opportunities lost leading to a barrage of “What if?” questions.

Some of the regrets are about things that would not have impacted on having my children – those are the most difficult ones I am trying to cope with. I feel a lot of shame and embarrassment over some of the things I have done. While I know I cannot change my past, I still struggle to accept those decisions.

Depression. I face this demon on a daily basis and it highlights and intensifies all the negative thoughts of my past. It tries to make me think I would not be alone if I had made different choices. That I would be loved and happy. It causes my already low spirits to plummet and I find tears streaming from my eyes without any warning at times.

Music can have a huge impact on my moods. Often the songs from my past that I love the most are the ones that bring back so much pain. Maybe it is a form of self-harm or perhaps I am just trying to face those demons but I cannot resist listening to them. They take me back to my younger self and all the emotions I felt at the time. Some are just general but others take me to a specific event (those are the hardest).

I realise now that I had depression even back then – in my teens. I lacked confidence, was very naive and gullible. I felt no direction and lacked any focus other than to escape my own self. My actions were spontaneous, rash and reckless. Had I known then just how free I really was, I cannot imagine where I would have taken myself in life.

But I know all this reminiscing is pointless. It serves no purpose other than to cause me pain and regret. I hate the idea of regret. I’d prefer to take responsibility for my actions. I made those decisions after all – no one else did.

But what if there is a point to this emotional self flogging? What if it is necessary in order to move forward in my life? Could the fact I have never forgiven myself for mistakes be a part of the cause of my depression? What if it can lead to me gaining confidence and eventually being able to feel strong and able to face more of the obstacles life throws at me?

What are your thoughts? Does any of this ring true for you? Have you been through a similar process? If so, how did it turn out for you? I’d really like to know!


Psaryce x



Self Sabotage


I’m still feeling quite raw following the events of the week. I don’t think I’m in any shape to begin making decisions about my life though. Even so, there is a nagging voice within me that is pressing me to begin. Pressure leads to increased anxiety so my recovery is being sabotaged by my own mind.

That voice, I know, is one developed from societal expectations. It’s messages are all bullshit but so ingrained into my subconscious they still hold some sort of power over me. They barrage me with all the “You should do this”, “You should be this way”, “You ought to be better at life by now/at your age”, etc. In my conscious mind, I don’t believe there are set ways to live one’s life. Life comes in so many various forms and I don’t think we are meant to live our life in the exact same way as anyone else. Yet those deep-rooted concepts that have been collected since birth are hard to break free.

This morning, I struggled to find one good reason to get out of bed. I tried to think of things that had to get done but nothing that came to my mind seemed to be that important. Eventually I got up purely because I was no longer physically comfortable lying in bed.

There are loads of things I would like to get done today but my physical limitations make it too hard to accomplish them. Just thinking about the struggle required to do even one of the tasks plunges me into an even lower mood. At times like this, I often let go of my desires to tackle the every day jobs most people complain about but yet are physically able to do without pain or frustration. In a sense, I give up because there is too much to be done and I know I haven’t the ability or strength needed. I get overwhelmed and begin a mental cycle that loops from desire to change things to depression over lack of capability. This cycle drags me down rapidly as the depression side gains power. Ultimately, I am exhausted by the mental process and can do very little if anything.

Even through this, that voice clambers on berating me for being inadequate. It tells me I am a failure as an adult. I should have my act together by now. I act more like a child than an adult. I ought to snap out of it/get a grip.

I know it is a voice of the ignorant and the things it says are not true, I cannot seem to shut it up. Now is a time I need to relax and give myself space to heal but that voice is relentless and distracts me from obtaining clarity. I wouldn’t say it is a daily struggle. It is a minute by minute struggle which threatens to consume me.

The Foundation Collapsing


When the base of your world vanishes and you find yourself plummeting and scrambling for a hold on anything at all that will stop the fall, you would expect there to be a sense of fear. I don’t feel that yet. I am numb. Perhaps I’m still in shock.

I’m no longer hurtling downward but I haven’t yet hit anything solid. I am sort of hovering, just dangling about in the middle of nothing. There are no conscious sensations of touch … no bottom, top or side. There isn’t even any air where I am at the moment. It is a strange sensation. If I’d been asked this morning, I would have said that I’ve been here before. I would have labelled this “place” as limbo. But I would have been wrong on both counts.

I’ve never been here before nor would I have chosen to be now or ever. It’s not a nice place. It isn’t the dark void of depression … it is far beyond that.It is a dead place. There are no energies positive or negative. I hear nothing, smell nothing. There are only two sensations. One is an acrid, almost metallic taste in my mouth. I feel dry to the core as if all the liquids have been sucked out of me. The other is the sight. I am surrounded and suspended in a marble of putrid green and black. It compliments the caustic sting in my mouth.

I know not how to escape this environment yet I sense that none of my skills in dealing with the darkness will be helpful. This situation will require tactics I haven’t learned as yet. I’m paralyzed – it feels as if every cell in my being is paralyzed. My vocabulary is limited to adjectives, my ability to think doesn’t extend beyond description. I cannot breathe but feel no need to – perhaps it is the thought of the obnoxious vapours entering my body that prevents me from inhaling.

There are some similarities to when I have been in the depths of desolation. For instance I have no desires at all. I do not want for anything to happen nor anything to change. The concept of a change happening that will improve my existence is foreign – such a thing simply cannot occur. I am beyond longing, beyond hoping, beyond believing.

There is also a sense of calmness. It is comforting in a way. The lack of belief in any change forces one to accept the state you are in and it’s so easy. Time doesn’t exist so you are not aware of how long you are held in the strange prison. You don’t even question where you are, what boundaries there are … you simply know that you are confined and you don’t care.

There’s a very good reason why you don’t care … because to be there means you don’t have to feel the full power of your pain. You are in a sort of bubble which is protecting you from reality. It is your escape, your safe haven as well as your prison.

Evil Talons


Depression has me firmly in it’s grip once more. The darkness surrounds every fibre of my being and threatens to pull me ever deeper into it’s vacuous space of nothingness.

I fought and struggled at first, twisting and turning to try and escape the evil talons but I couldn’t break free. I am now just existing. I cannot fight any more. I am far too weary and weak. I must wait until I have rested a bit and then wait for a moment when those talons relax a little. Maybe then I can escape; if not completely then at least enough to climb a little higher.

I feel numb with the agonizing pain that sears deep within. Tears stream from my eyes but I haven’t the energy to cry properly. I long to cry out, to sob, to wail with the anguish but I can’t. I am paralysed, unable to even move. I fall into a restless sleep and awake to find the tears are still streaming down my cheeks. My pillow is soaked with the moisture of my pain. The pain I felt even as I slept.

So another day begins. I lie in bed wondering why I should bother getting up. Searching my mind to try and find one reason I should partake in the world today.

Adapting To Change


I struggle with this. Big time. I just don’t cope with changes – even minor ones. I used to be able to go with the flow but then a bunch of stuff happened (and it still happening) in my life and now I have a huge need for a feeling of control. Now changes need to be considered, thought through and planned. Unexpected things completely freak me out. I just panic and it is so exhausting to go through a series of panic attacks before I can finally give in – usually into a crying fit – and begin to get a handle on myself.

The attacks aren’t always the same – it seems to depend on the situation. But there are elements that appear in every one. The obvious heart-racing, chest pounding, head thumping, blurry vision and the dreadful feeling of hopelessness caused by lack of control. Sometimes I just freeze physically. I cannot move at all until it passes. With others I dash about shaking and unable to stand or it still for more than a few seconds. Lately a lot of mine have sparked off flashbacks of a trauma I survived many years ago. And sometimes these, in turn, cause a flood of unpleasant memories to pour through my mind.

Regardless, my mind is constantly thinking and questioning every little thing at a very rapid rate. I curse myself. Negative self thoughts wizz past before I can stop them. You are a fool. You should know better by now. You are a stupid idiot. You’re not worthy of anyone for anything. Your pain is not justified because you don’t matter. Nothing you say or do matters. You are useless. A waste of space. And the questions! So many questions! About myself, my decisions, my thoughts, my actions, my existence. I also question others … what are their real motives, are they using me, are they intentionally trying to hurt me? Why did I let myself trust them, believe them, feel for them, let them in, confide in them, give them the benefit of the doubt, make excuses for them, etc, etc. This list of thoughts and questions could really go on and on and on!

Unless depression takes over, once the mental images and thoughts and questions begin to settle down, I am totally exhausted – both physically and mentally. My head stills pounds but from a dull ache that will take ages to subside. I feel cold and weakened. I want to curl up and hide away from everyone and everything. At these times, I think I’d happily be a turtle.

But I cannot withdraw to that extent. I have responsibilities. I have a daughter. I have to get to a place where I can function before she sees me. It upsets her too much to see me this way and I want to protect her from this nightmare as much as I can. I must do the best I can.

If you have read this far and feel like maybe you just had a ride on a roller-coaster, well you sort of have. Today I have gone through this cycle more times than I care to count. Tomorrow I may not experience it at all … here’s hoping!

Psaryce x