This week I was stopped in my tracks. I sat in front of my dinner crying the tears of the defeated. Silent, head bent, no relief. Crying when there is nothing left to do. Work is unrelenting. Every day is the same misery. I never thought I would get sick of being at home. I love home. It is where the yarn and fabric and paints are. It is where my kittens and husband are. But all motivation to create or laugh or connect or move have long left. This is ordinary depression. But ordinary depression never feels conquerable, does it? It feels like the first and forever and only existence.
I am reminding myself that when you can’t control anything, the best advice is to set little goals of things that you can control. Even if you don’t want to. And I really don’t want to. I want to nap and watch dumb stuff and eat peppermints.
But I have to just start starting. I set some goals for the next few months. Or rather, reset. Read some books, sew some stuff, relearn the German I forgot, stop watching dumb shit, listen to my records, paint every day. Try to move. Try. Little goals. Starting even when I don’t want to.
Right now I have Velvet Underground playing on my little Crossley. I am going to make one quilt block. Create a keep going playlist.
Start. Start. Start. Start. Start. Start. Start. Start.
Wish me luck.