Rainy Days and Mondays Always Bring Me Down. . .

. . .Okay, fine.  Yes.  I know its actually Tuesday.  (Wednesday, to be precise, by the time you actually read this.)  But it's a gloomy-as-hell Tuesday, dark clouds, rain varying from light and warm to torrential and vindictive in the span of a few seconds.  So outside time has been SEVERELY limited today.  =(  Which means that I didn't get my 'lose-your-mind-just-be-your-body' walk this morning with the baby. 

Also, I'm finding it harder and harder to sleep at night (and don't know why).  I go to bed at 12:00 to 2:00-ish, and still I sit bolt upright in bed, wide-awake at anywhere from 5 to 6 a.m.  . . . Generally still in the panicked grip of a fierce and grisly nightmare that is only just starting to fade.  It has become, excuse the pun, 'tiring.'  ;)  The reason I am sharing this is because I'm afraid that I might be ('possibly'. . .JUST 'POSSIBLY') prone to have some unpredictable and little bitchy outbursts today, and I am endeavoring valiantly to head them off at the pass.  =)

(This is my unpredictable and slightly bitchy look.  I think the photo really bares that out.)

(I would like to add here, PURELY in the interest of honesty and integrity, that it is NORMALLY my dearest one bitching at me.  His favorite personal subject is that of my smoking.  He had stopped the daily lectures for a while there . . . but now he's returned full-force, which I can only imagine is the same way in which Sylvester Stallone returns in 'The Expendables 2.'  (And I only say 'I can only imagine' because I CAN ONLY IMAGINE.  Because I would rather be pummelled by drug-crazed Pandas, carrying firearms, with nothing left to live for, and looks of grim resignation on their adorable and deadly little faces than EVER have to sit through that smoking loaf of the pony.  You are ALL already QUITE rich.  So for the love of God---just stop. 

And YES.  I KNOW that smoking is bad for me!  But I'm having a rough go of it at the moment, and evil though they may be, they also make me feel (a measure) better.  And I KNOW that he only bitches so PASSIONATELY about it is just because he's worried about me.  And I understand that.  However.  Though this may be flawed logic, and feel free to disagree:  Women live longer than men.  That is a FACT.  *I* don't want to be left here alone without him.  Not ever.  So I guess I just prefer to think about it as levelling the playing field, so to speak.  Long paragraph short:  I WILL quit smoking.  But it will NOT be today.)

So to sum up so far:  I'm not having a super-awesome day, I am stressed about money, and a million other things, I am worried about my husband, and I am a little depressed.  As you readers should well-know by now, this is NOT a new, or even a unique, occurrence for me.

But I know now, not only from personal conversations with friends and family, or just the sheer number of people occupying shrink's offices these days (like so much cattle), that I am FAR from alone in this.  I won't die from it.  (It just feels like it sometimes.)  But I am fairly awesome.  And I can even be brave. . . when I have to be.

(Best pic I can find of me looking brave.  I'm sure there are TONS of other pictures, depicting just that, but I have been unable to locate them at this time.)

And, whether I like it or not, it will most likely happen again.  So I have decided to compose a list of all the odd, and oddly effective, things I do to try to steer away the 'Mean Reds.'

First off, I ALWAYS watch the opening theme to the old 80's cartoon show, The Gummi Bears.  (This was a GREAT cartoon, by the way.  If you've never seen it?  Go out and buy that first season.  It is a decision that you will NOT regret, my friend.  (You'll thank me later.)  Spoiler alert:  The secret really was in the Gummi Berry juice. But those bears were warriors.  WARRIORS!!!!)



So I watch this whenever I'm low.  And then I sing the entire theme song.  Over and over again.  ALL day long.  (*even in the bathtub*)  And, while *I*, and, I daresay the ducks, find it nothing short of delightful,

(Those are, in fact, the MINIMUM number of Duckies required to be by our tub at all times.  It was a law that I was completely unclear on, and in fact completely unaware of.  Devin swore it was true.  But he still has yet to produce the paperwork.)

other members of the family have expressed rather dissimilar attitudes.  And THAT is when I say, in my MOST snooty tone (and I can manage a pretty good 'Snoot'), "It's called 'CULTURE', family.  Look it up!"  (It is roughly the exact opposite of eating dinner on trays while curled up on the couch, watching t.v. and checking your facebook every 7 1/2 minutes.)  (*And I'm looking at you, here Michael.*) 

But I have learned that it is just incredibly difficult to look very 'snooty' when you are lying in a bubble bath, and bathing with a Winnie the Pooh bath puppet.  (Sidenote:  I LOVE that Pooh-puppet.  He just seems so. . . HAPPY to be helping get me clean.  =)

. . . . . .  o.0

Wait.  He could . . . not be as innocent as he seems.  . . .EVERYONE has a secret.  Could he be a. . . puppet-perv?  . . .??  . . .Great.  Now I can't use the Pooh puppet again until this whole ugly mess has been sorted out. . .  Guess I'll just resort to the Toy Story wash cloths.  (They make me happy, too, and will do, in a pinch.)

(Innocent bath cloth, or devious predator?)

Gummi Bears and Pooh puppets aside, I find that Christmas lights make me feel good.  Very happy.  =)  I strongly suggest that you try it. 

I also find that peculiar socks are another seemingly magical cure to the blues. . . cheers ya right up  =)  How long can you stay sad when, every time you look down at your feet, you see:

                (And yes --- They're all mine.  It's a sickness, really.  But I swear it helps.)

So if you don't own several dozen pairs of completely ridiculous socks, I still have a few more suggestions.  Keep in mind, though, that this is just what helps ME.  If YOU have any suggestions on things that help YOU --- PLEASE feel free to let me know!!!

I like to play with rubber duckies (or just LOOK at them, even).  I find them soothing.  I like to lose myself completely in the pages of a good book.  (*I'm looking at YOU, Dean Koontz.*) 

I like to walk for an hour in the morning, EVERY morning.  Pushing a stroller, and whether I feel like doing it or not.  I like to get back from an hour of walking, covered in sweat and feeling glorious, and remember that I could've easily skipped today.  I could've just stayed in bed.  Or on the couch.  Or done any of a DOZEN other things that I would SO much rather be doing!!  But as strange as it sounds, it feels even BETTER if you have to make yourself do it.  KNOWING that you could've just skipped it.  No one would've known.  But you did it ANYWAY, and THAT FEELS GREAT!

I like to color my hair.  I feel it only responsible however, to advise you to NOT permanently color your hair if you are showing signs of depression.  (This is how I ended up, during a particularly morose period as a young adult, with hair that sent me spiraling STRAIGHT into an unintentional Morticia Addams phase.  So just trust me on this, m'kay?)  So now I use a chalk recipe (sidewalk chalk = BRIGHT colors!!) that I found on pinterest.  My husband was not NEARLY as awed and amused with the green and blue streaks as *I* was ("But it washes right out!!  It's a freaking scientific BREAKTHROUGH!!!"), and it is now referred to as 'The Chalk Incident.'  Many good towels were lost.  (Somehow Michael NEVER seems to have 'INCIDENTS.'  How is that even POSSIBLE??  Is he faking?!?  . . . Is . . is he a cyborg? . . .?)

o.0

Its just not natural.  That's all I'm saying.

Pressing onward:

I like to curl up and watch REALLY funny movies.  I like to play games with, and take pictures of, my son.  I LIKE to drink coffee, my current poison of choice being Strawberry Shortcake flavored coffee, mixed with a little Chocolate syrup, healthy doses of sugar and non-dairy coffee creamer, and just a dib of Irish Creme flavored syrup.  Stir well while still hot, then pour the contents into a blender.  Add 1 large cup full of ice, and blend for about 8 seconds.  Makes two servings, makes your heart start pumping, makes you capable of doing all those things you wanted to do, if you could just stay awake long enough, and, IF you're ME --- IT MAKES YOU HAPPY.

I like to do something (ANYthing!) completely absurd, like. . . I don't know, standing on my head for no reason whatsoever.  Just cause I can, ya'll  =)  Oh!  And I like to draw!  I call this one 'Purple Magic Demon Kitty'.  (Reviews have been. . . mixed.)

                            

I like to cross stitch, and sew, and play Neopets (AND Pokemon), and it is ALL really just basically the SAME THING:  mindless, therapeutic, meditation.

A chance for me to get my mind OFF my Mind.  =)

So again, feel free to try any and all of these, and let me know what you think, and if you're willing to share any of your OWN oddball tendencies!!  (Also, if you try these, and they WORK. . .  "You're welcome.")

What I like most about depression is remembering that it IS going to pass.  It is not forever.  And, like the most gruesome of nightmares, when you wake up -- and its over! -- ALL you can feel is this awesome, overwhelming sense of RELIEF!!!

Because you DID come out on the other side.

You made it.

And life WILL, once again, be beautiful.

But you MUST remember this!! 

And never, no matter what you EVER do, don't you DARE let yourself get bitter.  (We have a virtual pinkie-promise now, which is a socially binding contract.  That means I'm gonna hold you to it =)