That's how the depression started yesterday.
With clutter.
Al and I were wrapped up tightly together on the couch, enjoying a blissful late morning nap when Alun's phone "pinged" with a message. Al opened one eye and smiled down into my face. He reached across to pick up his phone and groaned.
"Argh it's Troy. He's on his way over with some stuff"
Reluctantly, we both got up.
Troy is going on an adventure - driving around Australia by himself while he waits to see if his Australian visa will come through. This has been over a year in the making - with Alun and Troy sitting together on various afternoons, frowning at the laptop screen and filling in form after form for Troy. The Government always writes back (after months and months) asking for another form - or a change to the forms the boys have already sent. So frustrating. I'm hoping all their hard work and effort will be rewarded and that Troy will be granted a permanent visa. I know it would break Alun's heart if his friend has to move back to the UK.
Troy arrived, leaning his happy face around the side of our electric gate and garage door "Aluuuuuuuuuuunnn!" and beaming a happy face. Bless him.
Al and I opened the gate and let Troy in...
...and along with it - huge piles of junk that Troy didn't know what to do with and has left with us so that his apartment is empty.
Argh.
It's only junk and I shouldn't freak out but oh my word - it really upset me.
It upset the balance of the house, somehow. Our lovely, tranquil little cottage where everything has it's place...now covered with boxes, tools, fishing wire (?), old, dusty appliances..."boy stuff", really. It was suddenly everywhere.
Alun sighed "sorry, Gorg"
"No, it's okay" I reassured him.
But it wasn't ok. It was a huge freaking mess.
My anxiety went up. I looked at all the tools and 'things' scattered about in our lovely cottage and shook my head, my heart racing, palms sweating and head starting to ache.
Where were we going to put all of this?
Alun enfolded me in a big hug and kissed the top of my head. I love when he does that.
Anxiety down a few notches.
"Okay, I'm off to work. See you tonight" and with a cheeky wink, Alun was gone.
Anxiety back up again - by about 100 notches, now.
I was alone with all this mess.
Easy, right? No sweat. Just tidy it away. Or don't - and just don't let it bother me.
But it bothered me! A lot!
The house seemed smaller - like the walls were closing in on me. My chest was hurting and it was hard to breathe. It physically hurt me to see all this mess around our home. I couldn't cope.
This is so silly, JD. It's just a few bits and bobs. Let it go.
But I couldn't let it go. It was so...visual.
Because Alun and I had been away to Busselton for the Easter Weekend, the house was already in a bit of an untidy state before Troy added all the things he didn't want to take with him on his journey. All these old, dusty, broken, horrible things.
Yuck.
I walked around from room to room shaking my head.
Where to start?
I ended up just moving stuff about - from room to room and making it worse. It seemed messier. The rooms seemed smaller.
Arrrghhhhh.
I went out into the garden for respite - but lately, the garden has turned into a bit of a jungle of weeds. The intense Ozzie heat has killed my pretty flowers so everything is brown and limp. Ants have somehow attacked every living thing in the garden so that everything has little 'ant holes' burrowed into it. Our blood orange tree is looking really grim and I derive no pleasure from being in the garden anymore...so I have changed watering from daily to every 2-3 days and that lack of watering and care is making the garden worse.
I felt tears welling up. I usually love gardening. How did I let it get to this?
I was of the mind that ripping it all up and throwing it away was the best option. Then I wouldn't have to care for anything.
When did I start thinking like this?
I spent another painful hour wandering about, gently touching things around the house, frowning, stressing, getting upset...then wandering outside and feeling sad about the garden...then back into the house again.
Over and over until I thought I would scream. I couldn't stand it.
Go for a walk.
Okay. Maybe just getting out of the house will do me some good.
I walked to Coles (our nearest supermarket) in the blistering heat. This is supposed to be Autumn! I feel so jipped.
It was so nice once I was indoors, though. The cool aircon was soothing and I love shopping. Any type of shopping. Even just for groceries. It makes me feel so blessed and so privileged that I can walk around and buy anything I want! What a great thing! I was smiling and humming away to myself in minutes, looking at things on special and wondering what I should buy now that I was there.
Anxiety down quite a few notches.
Blistering heat on the walk home. Sweat ran down my legs and squelched in my sandals.
Yuck.
Getting home made my anxiety go higher and depression sank in further. Our dried-up, miserable garden met me at the front gate. I hated the sight of it.
I went inside and sat on the sofa, miserable.
I didn't even attempt to put the shopping away.
For me, depression is a very tangible thing. I feel it. I feel it all over me like an itchy, heavy, dirty coat that is stuck to my limbs...like a helmet that is a size too small which squeezes my head and makes me feel claustrophobic.
I also hear it. Depression is a loud, dark voice in my head, telling me to quit. Demanding to be heard.
"you live in a pigsty"
"you are so lazy and pathetic, you don't even do the dishes, shame on you"
"why are you alive? You worthless idiot. You can't even keep your home tidy - who are you?"
It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
I decided to ask for help and posted on facebook about how much I was struggling with the mess in the house. I don't know about you, but facebook keeps me pretty accountable because once I post it, I know I have to back it up. I went around and took pictures of the rooms that were stressing me out so that people I loved could see what I was dealing with and hopefully they would offer support and ways to tackle it which I was struggling to deal with logically because I was so bound in anxiety and depression. The 'before' pictures would also motivate me to do something so that I would have successful 'after' pictures to post for the people I loved who believe in me.
It worked. Praise God.
Friends jumped on immediately and offered support and encouragement. My friend Kim (oh how I love her) texted a picture of the mess in her house and we agreed to spur each other on - to "do one thing" and then set ourselves a reward for doing it.
This was so much better.
I decided to start with the dishes.
Just wash the dishes, JD. Don't think of the garden and the house as a whole with other rooms demanding your attention - just do the dishes.
So I did.
It felt so much better to see them all stacked up and drying nicely on the rack. Something about seeing the kitchen clean and bright really blessed my heart.
Ok.
On to something else.
I unpacked the groceries I'd bought at Coles, smiling away to myself as I put sandwich meat into the fridge and the fresh rolls on the bench. I know Alun likes them so I bought them especially for him. It was such a small thing, but made me feel so happy, thinking of Alun coming home to the rolls and sandwich fillings he likes best.
This cheered me up so I went outside and folded all the clean clothes from the clothesline.
Look at me go!
Inspired, I carefully made our bed. Straightening out the doona, smiling at the pretty blue flowers on the bedspread and 'fluffing up' the pillows before setting them nicely along the headboard.
This was starting to look a lot better. Praise God.
I looked again at the kitchen bench. It was tidier but still needed work.Troy had "donated" about 9 jars of pasta sauce, packets of rice and soup and a few odd packets of noodles. We did not need these! Troy! Seeing all the food on the bench from Troy made me smile, though - it was a great represenation of a single guy's food.
I remembered a site I belong to on Facebook called "pay it forward" where we post pictures of things we don't want/need and others can ask to come and collect them. I lined up Troy's 'donations' nicely on the bench to make it look as appealing as possible, snapped a quick photo - and posted that it was "free to good home".
Not even a minute passed before someone commented "Please may I be considered?"
I looked at the tiny photo attached of the person who had asked; "Ramon". His picture looked friendly - his happy face pressed against the face of someone dressed as Santa. He looked like a good guy. He could have the food. Sure.
We messaged back and forth and within 20 minutes, he was outside and shouting "Hello there!" through the gates. I kind of like how secure our home is. I opened the gates and there stood a young man who looked a lot like my brother. A friendly, warm version, though. One that looked pleased to see me. It ached to take him in. I wanted so much to hug him.
"Hey, thanks so much for this, Janet" Ramon said, accepting the canvas bag I had carefully packed the groceries into.
"My pleasure" I smiled back. I couldn't help but smile, this was such a fun thing to do.
"It actually...uhh..." he swallowed painfully "this means a lot to me, hey? I lost my job so I don't make any money" Ramon gestured behind him "I live with my Mom now only a few streets away. I'm waiting on Centrelink payments but they can't come through until my old boss files paperwork that I don't work for that company anymore and uhh...he's just not helping"
"bastards" I mumbled.
Ramon chuckled. "Yeah, I think so, too"
"I'm really sorry" I offered. And I was. "This must be so hard for you".
I wanted to go back into the house and give Ramon everything in our pantry.
Did I have any money in my purse I could offer him?
Did I know anyone that I could ask who could help him find a job?
Omg. Slow down, JD. He is here for sauce. You've given it to him. Stop it now.
"It's a tough time, for sure. I hate not being able to pay for anything and having ot rely on my Mom" Ramon continued "But people like you are a great help" he held up the canvas bag with groceries inside "Thanks for this - I can make Mom dinner tonight. Awesome! Hey, I'll see you 'round"
And he was off with a big smile on his face.
Which really humbled me. I wouldn't be able to smile or be so grateful if I were in the same circumstances.
What a nice guy!
I feel like I should have done more.
I feel like I let him down somehow. By not doing enough.
Father God, thank you that I am not having to get 'free food' from a stranger right now. I am so very blessed.
I went inside feeling lighter. Happier. Blessed.
Depression wasn't giving up that easily.
With most of the house looking a lot better, it decided to have a go at me personally.
"Look at yourself" it taunted. "Disgusting"
So I did. I opened my phone camera to 'selfie' view and looked at the face staring back at me. Dark brown skin. Blotchy from a weekend in the sun. Lots of pimples. Grey hair everywhere. I hadn't showered or straightened my hair so it fell around my face in awful, dry, crumbly zigzags. I saw a pair of dull, lifeless, miserable eyes. Fat, heavy jowls. It hurt to look at that face. That awful, ugly brown face.
How does Alun look at me every day? How???
I just wanted to cry.
So I posted that picture of myself on facebook, too. My first ever HONEST picture of what I REALLY look like. No makeup. No filters. No awesome camera angles and lighting. Just me. Just as I am.
Oh Lord. What have I done?
I was taking a huge risk posting such a thing. What would everyone think?
Father God, I'm thankful for the kindness that came as a response. I'm thankful for every friend who told me I was worthwhile, anyway. I'm thankful that no one agreed with the voice of depression BOOMING in my mind "You are so ugly. Dayum girl - you must have hit every branch as you fell from the ugly tree. Sheesh".
And in spite of the kindness from my friends...and love and support (along with a worried phone call) from Alun...I still felt like crying.
I honestly wanted to go to bed and not ever come out again.
This is exhausting.
This is demoralising.
This is so hard, you guys.
With clutter.
Al and I were wrapped up tightly together on the couch, enjoying a blissful late morning nap when Alun's phone "pinged" with a message. Al opened one eye and smiled down into my face. He reached across to pick up his phone and groaned.
"Argh it's Troy. He's on his way over with some stuff"
Reluctantly, we both got up.
Troy is going on an adventure - driving around Australia by himself while he waits to see if his Australian visa will come through. This has been over a year in the making - with Alun and Troy sitting together on various afternoons, frowning at the laptop screen and filling in form after form for Troy. The Government always writes back (after months and months) asking for another form - or a change to the forms the boys have already sent. So frustrating. I'm hoping all their hard work and effort will be rewarded and that Troy will be granted a permanent visa. I know it would break Alun's heart if his friend has to move back to the UK.
Troy arrived, leaning his happy face around the side of our electric gate and garage door "Aluuuuuuuuuuunnn!" and beaming a happy face. Bless him.
Al and I opened the gate and let Troy in...
...and along with it - huge piles of junk that Troy didn't know what to do with and has left with us so that his apartment is empty.
Argh.
It's only junk and I shouldn't freak out but oh my word - it really upset me.
It upset the balance of the house, somehow. Our lovely, tranquil little cottage where everything has it's place...now covered with boxes, tools, fishing wire (?), old, dusty appliances..."boy stuff", really. It was suddenly everywhere.
Alun sighed "sorry, Gorg"
"No, it's okay" I reassured him.
But it wasn't ok. It was a huge freaking mess.
My anxiety went up. I looked at all the tools and 'things' scattered about in our lovely cottage and shook my head, my heart racing, palms sweating and head starting to ache.
Where were we going to put all of this?
Alun enfolded me in a big hug and kissed the top of my head. I love when he does that.
Anxiety down a few notches.
"Okay, I'm off to work. See you tonight" and with a cheeky wink, Alun was gone.
Anxiety back up again - by about 100 notches, now.
I was alone with all this mess.
Easy, right? No sweat. Just tidy it away. Or don't - and just don't let it bother me.
But it bothered me! A lot!
The house seemed smaller - like the walls were closing in on me. My chest was hurting and it was hard to breathe. It physically hurt me to see all this mess around our home. I couldn't cope.
This is so silly, JD. It's just a few bits and bobs. Let it go.
But I couldn't let it go. It was so...visual.
Because Alun and I had been away to Busselton for the Easter Weekend, the house was already in a bit of an untidy state before Troy added all the things he didn't want to take with him on his journey. All these old, dusty, broken, horrible things.
Yuck.
I walked around from room to room shaking my head.
Where to start?
I ended up just moving stuff about - from room to room and making it worse. It seemed messier. The rooms seemed smaller.
Arrrghhhhh.
I went out into the garden for respite - but lately, the garden has turned into a bit of a jungle of weeds. The intense Ozzie heat has killed my pretty flowers so everything is brown and limp. Ants have somehow attacked every living thing in the garden so that everything has little 'ant holes' burrowed into it. Our blood orange tree is looking really grim and I derive no pleasure from being in the garden anymore...so I have changed watering from daily to every 2-3 days and that lack of watering and care is making the garden worse.
I felt tears welling up. I usually love gardening. How did I let it get to this?
I was of the mind that ripping it all up and throwing it away was the best option. Then I wouldn't have to care for anything.
When did I start thinking like this?
I spent another painful hour wandering about, gently touching things around the house, frowning, stressing, getting upset...then wandering outside and feeling sad about the garden...then back into the house again.
Over and over until I thought I would scream. I couldn't stand it.
Go for a walk.
Okay. Maybe just getting out of the house will do me some good.
I walked to Coles (our nearest supermarket) in the blistering heat. This is supposed to be Autumn! I feel so jipped.
It was so nice once I was indoors, though. The cool aircon was soothing and I love shopping. Any type of shopping. Even just for groceries. It makes me feel so blessed and so privileged that I can walk around and buy anything I want! What a great thing! I was smiling and humming away to myself in minutes, looking at things on special and wondering what I should buy now that I was there.
Anxiety down quite a few notches.
Blistering heat on the walk home. Sweat ran down my legs and squelched in my sandals.
Yuck.
Getting home made my anxiety go higher and depression sank in further. Our dried-up, miserable garden met me at the front gate. I hated the sight of it.
I went inside and sat on the sofa, miserable.
I didn't even attempt to put the shopping away.
For me, depression is a very tangible thing. I feel it. I feel it all over me like an itchy, heavy, dirty coat that is stuck to my limbs...like a helmet that is a size too small which squeezes my head and makes me feel claustrophobic.
I also hear it. Depression is a loud, dark voice in my head, telling me to quit. Demanding to be heard.
"you live in a pigsty"
"you are so lazy and pathetic, you don't even do the dishes, shame on you"
"why are you alive? You worthless idiot. You can't even keep your home tidy - who are you?"
It was getting harder and harder to breathe.
I decided to ask for help and posted on facebook about how much I was struggling with the mess in the house. I don't know about you, but facebook keeps me pretty accountable because once I post it, I know I have to back it up. I went around and took pictures of the rooms that were stressing me out so that people I loved could see what I was dealing with and hopefully they would offer support and ways to tackle it which I was struggling to deal with logically because I was so bound in anxiety and depression. The 'before' pictures would also motivate me to do something so that I would have successful 'after' pictures to post for the people I loved who believe in me.
It worked. Praise God.
Friends jumped on immediately and offered support and encouragement. My friend Kim (oh how I love her) texted a picture of the mess in her house and we agreed to spur each other on - to "do one thing" and then set ourselves a reward for doing it.
This was so much better.
I decided to start with the dishes.
Just wash the dishes, JD. Don't think of the garden and the house as a whole with other rooms demanding your attention - just do the dishes.
So I did.
It felt so much better to see them all stacked up and drying nicely on the rack. Something about seeing the kitchen clean and bright really blessed my heart.
Ok.
On to something else.
I unpacked the groceries I'd bought at Coles, smiling away to myself as I put sandwich meat into the fridge and the fresh rolls on the bench. I know Alun likes them so I bought them especially for him. It was such a small thing, but made me feel so happy, thinking of Alun coming home to the rolls and sandwich fillings he likes best.
This cheered me up so I went outside and folded all the clean clothes from the clothesline.
Look at me go!
Inspired, I carefully made our bed. Straightening out the doona, smiling at the pretty blue flowers on the bedspread and 'fluffing up' the pillows before setting them nicely along the headboard.
This was starting to look a lot better. Praise God.
I looked again at the kitchen bench. It was tidier but still needed work.Troy had "donated" about 9 jars of pasta sauce, packets of rice and soup and a few odd packets of noodles. We did not need these! Troy! Seeing all the food on the bench from Troy made me smile, though - it was a great represenation of a single guy's food.
I remembered a site I belong to on Facebook called "pay it forward" where we post pictures of things we don't want/need and others can ask to come and collect them. I lined up Troy's 'donations' nicely on the bench to make it look as appealing as possible, snapped a quick photo - and posted that it was "free to good home".
Not even a minute passed before someone commented "Please may I be considered?"
I looked at the tiny photo attached of the person who had asked; "Ramon". His picture looked friendly - his happy face pressed against the face of someone dressed as Santa. He looked like a good guy. He could have the food. Sure.
We messaged back and forth and within 20 minutes, he was outside and shouting "Hello there!" through the gates. I kind of like how secure our home is. I opened the gates and there stood a young man who looked a lot like my brother. A friendly, warm version, though. One that looked pleased to see me. It ached to take him in. I wanted so much to hug him.
"Hey, thanks so much for this, Janet" Ramon said, accepting the canvas bag I had carefully packed the groceries into.
"My pleasure" I smiled back. I couldn't help but smile, this was such a fun thing to do.
"It actually...uhh..." he swallowed painfully "this means a lot to me, hey? I lost my job so I don't make any money" Ramon gestured behind him "I live with my Mom now only a few streets away. I'm waiting on Centrelink payments but they can't come through until my old boss files paperwork that I don't work for that company anymore and uhh...he's just not helping"
"bastards" I mumbled.
Ramon chuckled. "Yeah, I think so, too"
"I'm really sorry" I offered. And I was. "This must be so hard for you".
I wanted to go back into the house and give Ramon everything in our pantry.
Did I have any money in my purse I could offer him?
Did I know anyone that I could ask who could help him find a job?
Omg. Slow down, JD. He is here for sauce. You've given it to him. Stop it now.
"It's a tough time, for sure. I hate not being able to pay for anything and having ot rely on my Mom" Ramon continued "But people like you are a great help" he held up the canvas bag with groceries inside "Thanks for this - I can make Mom dinner tonight. Awesome! Hey, I'll see you 'round"
And he was off with a big smile on his face.
Which really humbled me. I wouldn't be able to smile or be so grateful if I were in the same circumstances.
What a nice guy!
I feel like I should have done more.
I feel like I let him down somehow. By not doing enough.
Father God, thank you that I am not having to get 'free food' from a stranger right now. I am so very blessed.
I went inside feeling lighter. Happier. Blessed.
Depression wasn't giving up that easily.
With most of the house looking a lot better, it decided to have a go at me personally.
"Look at yourself" it taunted. "Disgusting"
So I did. I opened my phone camera to 'selfie' view and looked at the face staring back at me. Dark brown skin. Blotchy from a weekend in the sun. Lots of pimples. Grey hair everywhere. I hadn't showered or straightened my hair so it fell around my face in awful, dry, crumbly zigzags. I saw a pair of dull, lifeless, miserable eyes. Fat, heavy jowls. It hurt to look at that face. That awful, ugly brown face.
How does Alun look at me every day? How???
I just wanted to cry.
So I posted that picture of myself on facebook, too. My first ever HONEST picture of what I REALLY look like. No makeup. No filters. No awesome camera angles and lighting. Just me. Just as I am.
Oh Lord. What have I done?
I was taking a huge risk posting such a thing. What would everyone think?
Father God, I'm thankful for the kindness that came as a response. I'm thankful for every friend who told me I was worthwhile, anyway. I'm thankful that no one agreed with the voice of depression BOOMING in my mind "You are so ugly. Dayum girl - you must have hit every branch as you fell from the ugly tree. Sheesh".
And in spite of the kindness from my friends...and love and support (along with a worried phone call) from Alun...I still felt like crying.
I honestly wanted to go to bed and not ever come out again.
This is exhausting.
This is demoralising.
This is so hard, you guys.
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