I'm getting there. It's been a tough week and it's not really over, but I'm getting there. This is probably one of my longest stretches of episode + lots of mini episodes through the recovery. There's that word recovery again. Remember my rant about "being in recovery" and how it doesn't really apply to me? I guess it does to some extent. But with chronic depression, it keeps coming back over and over and over again. Such is my life though. It's all about appreciating those in between times of recovery. And working on techniques, etc to reduce the severity and frequency of the episodes.
Yesterday one thing that helped was I did some baking. I had volunteered to make something to sell at our choir concerts this weekend so I kinda had to do it. It was really a good thing to do yesterday. Baking, for me, can be therapeutic. I enjoy it, I usually take part in the raw tastings (YUMMY but yeah, I do risks the whole salmonella thing), and it's something I did, with family or friends, growing up that makes it a kind of comfort activity. It helped that I wasn't pressed for time yesterday. TK even helped me add ingredients to the mixer. Yesterday, I kinda needed that messy beater all to myself though, once he was off playing and I could enjoy it without him asking me why I was eating it all.
I have to point out in the above picture, dark spot in bottom left corner is Buddy the cat. See below for better view. :)
And of course I had to get a picture of just him. Crazy hypnotizing eyes, no? That wound above his right eye is looking so much better from when we got him, I think you can hardly tell now.
Things have been going much better with Buddy now. My boys love to play with him, feed him, give him treats, pet him, talk to him, say goodbye to him when we leave the house, and say goodnight to him when they're going to bed. He feels part of the family now. We've been keeping him in the laundry room at night for the past week-ish due to some relapsing of the ummm... litter box situation. Improving and will probably stop the nighttime solitary soon, whenever I feel ready to risk it again. Not this weekend. This weekend is way to busy and hectic.
I'm slightly terrified of this weekend. It's going to be fine, it's going to be good, but it's risky for my ability to not have a relapse on my episode and ruin the weekend. My mother-in-law is likely coming into town today, I say likely because she's flying stand-by (her husband is a pilot, pretty cool, no?) and flights were looking questionable. Having her in town will be good, and the kids adore her, but I still don't like getting depressed in front of anyone besides Nasser. And there is the issue of me blogging right now instead of getting the futon bed ready and finding clean towels. It'll get done, maybe a bit later, but I'm trying not to worry about that. But then this weekend is my choir concerts. I have one tonight and one Sunday afternoon. So that's a huge chunk out of the weekend right there. And, again, here I am blogging instead of reviewing the spots in my music where I feel shaky. Sigh, and yet I can't tear myself away from the blog because it feels so therapeutic today. And I need that too, perhaps more importantly.
After a read-through of the above, I will finally take a shower so we can get RG from the bus stop and get going on all the stuff I need to get done. Let's do this weekend.
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