Checking My Emotional Pulse

 It was a pleasant Thanksgiving.  I worked at the museum in the morning, and then Rik and Christy had me over for dinner with a couple of other "strays."  They're both great cooks and Rik was amazed at how much I packed away.  I'm glad I went; like skipping the concert,  I almost bailed.  I seem to be in withdrawal mode (rather obvious in the last two posts)

The holiday season is always hard.  I remember my mother's last Thanksgiving, as she pushed her fork around on her plate and then lifted it, still empty, to her mouth.  I ended up feeding her.  It hasn't been helped with having to deal with butchered chickens, and my heart breaking for Ebaida on the loss of her brother.  I very much miss our daily chats and banter, but it will take time for us to giggle together again.

Yesterday, I took an emotional "inventory."

3-4 days worth of dishes piled in the sink and on the counter.  A couple of baskets of laundry that have been sitting in the bedroom for days. The coffee table piled with random detritus, and the couch slipcover mostly on the floor.  Check the fridge - curdled milk and yellow broccoli.  The bathrooms - oh, dear.  I'm feeling chilly a lot of the time, even though it's not cold.

Unexpected triggers.  Yesterday I was running some laundry and washing dishes.  Suddenly the washing machine stopped and the light over the sink went out.  My first thought, of course, was power outage - except that the music was still playing and the overhead lights on.  So maybe a circuit breaker popped - but the light and the washing machine were on separate circuits.  After a few seconds the washing machine came back on, and I realized that it was just a coincidence that it had stopped between cycles just as the light bulb burned out.

And there was no one I could share that little bit of funny weirdness with.

I was watching a Rowan Atkinson comedy.  Atkinson is brilliant, but by no means beefcake.  But in one sketch he was fighting to try to get a shirt on, and the sight of a bare torso made me realize how much I desperately miss the simple pleasure of skin contact.  I felt twisted up inside.

Conclusion:  depression has set in.

Evaluate:  Don't worry about the milk and broccoli - it was the last cup of milk in the carton, and most of the broccoli can be eaten anyway.  That's minor.

Do I get out of bed in the morning?  Yes, and at the normal time.  Are the cats, remaining chicken, goldfish and squirrel being fed?  Yes.  Litterboxes cleaned daily?  Yes.  Am I brushing my teeth and hair and putting on clean underwear?  Yes.  Am I going to work at the museum?  Yes.

Not too bad, then.  Give the demon a cup of tea and some cookies and then buckle down. 

The coping mechanisms: (2024 self- this is for you in case this happens again)

 Break out the antidepressants.  Helps to have a crutch.  Get over that feeling of "where do I even start" on all the mess.  I grab my master list of things that need doing, literally flip a coin to choose something at random, then set a timer for 15 minutes and clean as efficiently as possible.  Amazing how much can get done - and then the rest doesn't seem so overwhelming.

Self-care.  Like still going to the chiropractor.  Dr. Lewis and his assistant are both nice people, so it's a little social outing.  And I'm with people whose goal it is to make me feel good.  Sometimes I take myself out to lunch afterwards.

Move.  It's hard to find motivation to get my backside off the couch.  I have an online friend who has been doing this thing called the Conquest Challenge.  It's a virtual walking tour; I chose the 98 mile/8 week one for Oaxaca, Mexico because I've been there a few times and love it.  Each day you log in your miles (walking or any other exercise) and it shows you where you are on the map.  Every few miles you get some history, pictures, maybe a video.  It's bringing back pleasant memories as I'm recognizing places we've been.

A bit of self-indulgence.  I ordered some supplies for foam crafting, which I haven't done for awhile.  Of course, I don't know when I'll get them, because they were shipped FedEx and I forgot to put in the note to hold it at the office and they don't have enough drivers to deliver packages.  It's been in town and on the truck for two days now, but it can take up to a week.

I also ordered some more luxury fiber for spinning - a blend of camel down and silk in a colorway called Opal.  It will be beautiful both to look at and to feel.

And, of course, the Big One:  Michael will be here a week from Monday for our trip down to Universal.  He's so thorough - he's actually been studying up for the trip (we're focusing on Harry Potter World).  He's been reading about it, watching videos, and even has his list of "Easter Eggs" and things to make sure he doesn't miss.  I realize that I'm feeling like a person who has been undergoing a long slow starvation and sees a feast coming.  6 days of being with someone that I love, someone to share things with, someone to eat with, to laugh with, have a glass of wine together, to wonder at things together and talk about them.

So I'll be all right.