I find it weird, a bit amusing, and slightly unnerving that I’ve tried getting in touch with professional help and I’m still empty-handed.
Twice now, I’ve emailed two different psychologists and followed up with a phone call. Neither of them called me back.
Do you really think that in both cases, both psychs did not receive my emails AND phone calls? I find that hard to believe.
I wonder if I come off as too crazy to help? Don’t you find it strange though? I mean, what are the chances?
A big step in treating depression and anxiety is realizing that you need professional help. Don’t suffer alone. Get professional help. You see that on bus shelters and in newspaper ads all the time.
So, I decide that I can’t do it on my own and I’m reaching out and no one is getting in touch. Not even a phone call saying I can refer you to someone else!
To be honest, this is the first time this has happened and I don’t believe it’s indicative of the entire profession. In the past, I’ve called and met with different therapists. Alas, when I really need someone now, I can’t seem to find that help.
It takes effort to reach out.
Maybe this week, I’ll try again. Surely, there is someone out there that can help me manage this.
So, I’ve done some stuff lately. Marked some things off my to-do list.
Painting, cleaning, putting together IKEA furniture.
Biking, running, swimming.
Yeah, it feels good.
And, I guess I feel kind of proud of myself.
It feels good to be moving, doing, accomplishing. I think that’s what the doctor ordered.
But, there is still this hollow feeling that goes right through me. Like my soul is a pilot light and it’s flickering in a cold dark room. You meet people with all burners on high – loving, being excited, laughing, trying, giving up, forgiving, failing, being sad, falling down, getting up, learning, divulging, sharing – I find it amazing.
And, no matter how good I temporarily feel from doing and accomplishing – I still don’t feel connected, connected to others. I see the love, I just can’t feel it.
This post is half-baked. Pfft!
It’s Saturday morning and I have 2 glorious days off work. All I want to do is sit in front of the computer and get lost for hours. Living on my own means I can completely waste the day without anyone knowing.
This week, I don’t. I eventually extract myself from the book or the computer, I clean the apartment and do some chores. I’m finished by noon.
I don’t like cleaning, nor do I like doing silly, albeit necessary, errands. And, braving the Saturday crowds can sometimes annoy me. I would much rather be on the couch and do nothing.
However, I am rewarded with a temporary moment of warm fuzzy feeling when I see a to-do list ticked off and a clean apartment. That warm fuzzy feeling is greater than the good feeling I get aimlessly surfing the internet for hours.
Chores > surfing
Moving and doing simple things is good for the depressed. Endorphins are not going to flood the system and rid you of that shitty feeling that permeates your soul. No, it’s not that dramatic. If anything, it might provide a momentary sense of relief, of pride maybe. A moment of respite. What a treat. A break.
So, try it. Make a to-do list – even if it has two items on your list, like move dishes from desk to sink and put the newspaper in the recycle bin – and tick it off. It might feel good. Even if it’s just for a moment.
Don’t worry, that lightbulb can wait another week.