softening to myself | day 4 of depression

i’m writing because i’m committed to the practice. my fingers are cold from a chilly walk to the grocery store for lemon pound cake.

i no longer know what i want from a writing practice — it’s embarrassing how seemingly quickly i can lose the vision. or maybe more so taste the reality of it and then question if i actually want it.

James Clear was the one who said, if you want to write a novel, focus on the qualities of a writer — consistent and reliable.

the more i sit with this, the more i question the ableism behind the concept of “consistency“.. because the ability to be consistent is not something that’s granted to us all equally..

i came back from new orleans saturday night (remember my grand declaration about writing while there, lol) — the first few days back were mostly defined by exhaustion and transition. and then the past few days, maybe since tuesday, i’ve been experiencing depression.

it feels like day 4 of depression, when it just starts to get old – the apathy, the inexplicable exhaustion, the lackluster attitude towards life..

plus, i started getting vertigo yesterday, which continued into today. and let me tell you, what the actual fuck — i almost threw up from standing up.. so yaaaa, that’s why i didn’t write this morning. but i’m writing now, so brownie points for me!

i’ve been noticing a pattern of irritability paired with my depression, which for whatever reason i don’t remember noting so clearly before. i mean, it makes sense that if i’m not in a good mood it’d make me crabby, but it’s still interesting to observe.. because i’m generally low energy when i’m depressed. so mustering the energy to be annoyed surprises me.

i think maybe this is because when i feel bad i become more controlling and therefore annoyed when people don’t seem to be falling into suit

so ya, my depression makes it hard to be consistent. and ya, i know that routine is good for depression. but look, forcing myself to do shit when i’m depressed is just not the vibe.. i’m tired of guilting and shaming myself when i already feel like shit..

i guess my point is that our bodies are unpredictable. and genuine kudos to those who can show up no matter their condition, i’m sure they exist. but i’m trying to practice honoring the signals my body is sending, such as wanting rest, or hell, craving spontaneity.

i feel like there’s a social narrative around victim blaming people for what their bodies do, as though if we simply tweaked our lifestyles, everything would be fixed.. i’ve been one of those people. i’m often that person to myself..

these days, i mostly think life is just hard a lot of the time.. and some of us get off easier than others.. and the idea of “better” just doesn’t feel very productive..

i’ve been brought back to a principle i learned in a somatics course i took — that the role of the therapist is to be with, not to fix. yes, we can support, we can provide tools and skills, but we’re not here to fix. i remind myself that about myself — i am here to bear witness, to offer myself compassion, to move with intention.

so blaming myself for something i’ve been experiencing since i can remember is just not it. yes, sometimes tough love is called for. but when i feel like this, often what i need is to soften to myself.

❤ ❤ ❤

sending y’all love

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