I write because I have to. Without the outlet of writing I think I would go insane. How could I function without the narration of my life? I filled out diaries as a child and teen. I even occasionally added to one or another during my adult life, but mainly found that tedious and difficult...mainly because diaries are easy to loose. I write to remember, to understand and to make my own mark on history.
I titled this Cries From the Pit because of my difficulties with depression. It is winter and I'm always worse in the winter. Usually about this time of the year I feel like I'm in a deep pit and still digging farther down. I saw the first blooms on my Forsythia today...there is hope that spring is in my future.
This year I sank to the lowest level in my depression in a very very long time. I have allowed my house to become a disaster. I hide in my room and tap away at my keyboard as if I don't have children or a husband. I barely manage to make meals and get the kids off to school or into bed at night. I've been sick for over a month...I'm not sure if the depression has made that worse or if the messy house has.
For the last week I've been so frustrated with the mess in my house. It is so completely out of control that I have no idea where to start. I've been following www.Flylady.net for years, and while I haven't managed to internalize much...I finally told myself today to go out and do 15 minutes of work. I did, and including filling the dishwasher, rebooting, folding and putting away a load of laundry I actually ended up doing 30 minutes. Not that you'd notice. But there was an improvement and I'm going to try to keep doing that each day. Who knows, maybe even twice a day.
I need a goal...something to motivate me...hmmmm...I'm going to California at the end of March and I need someone to come to my house to feed the cats so I'd better have most of the house presentable for this person to see! There, a goal.
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