I never made it to the gym yesterday. I have no motivation to go today either. I need to go, I have got to get this weight off. I’m not sure where all my motivation went but I am feeling especially lazy today, I just want to sit and crochet my hair. I’ll go this afternoon because it is scheduled but I don’t think I’ll go this morning. I have a lot of cleaning to do that I didn’t do yesterday.
I have to let myself take a day off without jumping to the conclusion that I am getting depressed. It’s ok to have a low day or a slow day, I don’t have to be going strong all the time. Everyone has good days and bad days, normal fluctuations in mood. Normal is not happy and motivated all the time, normal is up and down, just not to the extremes and not for prolonged periods. Learning to recognize the signs of an impending depressive episode and seeing signs everywhere no matter what, are two very different things that I struggle with. After spending years either depressed or zombified on too many meds I am jumping at shadows when it comes to the signs of my depression. I am anxious to get back to psychotherapy to continue to work on my own personal normal. I tried tracking my moods on one of those apps but it is so subjective. I found myself every day trying to outdo the level of my depression because I never felt like the little charts actually portrayed the depth of my despair in comparison to the slight humps of happiness. Those humps of happiness were just days of less depression that the chart didn’t go low enough to register.
But I am not going to sit here and wallow in the past, I am feeling pretty good these days, almost like a normal person. I have fought so hard to gain my life back once again that I want to enjoy being a human being while it lasts. Not that I am a productive member of society, I mostly stay at home or the gym. The nice thing about the gym is that it is like being home, like your the only person there. Everyone does this dance around each other, no eye contact is made, everyone is just going through the motions in their own little bubble. I am plagued by the fear that someone will speak to me, or tell me I am doing something wrong, but I fight through it. The longer I go and the more familiar the faces, the easier it gets. I find myself assigning personality traits and opinions to these almost imaginary people at the gym. Based solely on physical appearance and a little body language I have created a little society of people, in my head. I’m a weirdo, I know.