To know me (I typically add “in real life” here, but this time Im fairly certain I held it together notsomuch online either) is to know I’ve struggled recently.
I havent been myself.
Instead of leaping out of bed excitedly to greet the day—Ive dragged my sorry ass up & to the coffee maker whining the entire way.
Lamenting how exhausted I am. Moaning about how I dont want to work. Groaning about bus stop waits & soccer practices.
This is totally not like me.
I love my workjob. I cant believe Im paid to blog and write.
I’ve never needed an alarm because Im *always* eager to meet each morning (Im a puppy that way).
Now layer on top of the aforementioned whining a complete lack of interest in anything.
A longing to loll in bed all day.
Not reading & snacking or movie watching & munching (two ways I readily acknowledge Id *always* wanna spend a day. those are my ideas of day-perfection.), but just supine and, well, sad.
And, because Im nothing if not an Emmy-worthy actress (not), The Tornado began apologizing and proffering notes like the one pictured above.
(The note reads I am sorry Mom. I cant blame being depressed for my not correcting the “sre” for sorry. I was inexplicably mamatouched by her misspelling.)
Of course I told her she didnt do anything wrong.
Yes I let her know I was just sad and tired and I didnt know why.
And I didnt.
Id never been depressed & it was only when I cried to Ren Man about how I just didnt have it in me to work or tweet or facebook or do the laundry or brush my hair—-did it occur to me precisely what I was describing to him.
I wasnt myself. I was a depressed version of me. A version Id never been.
I immediately did what all good bloggers do when it’s nighttime & they thinks they’ve solved a problem: I hit Google to be sure.
I read lots of articles about allergies & depression and those (coupled with my chronically itchy, oozy eyes & throat so sore I felt as though I had strep) provided the OOOOH moment I needed.
I took action from there and learned my malaise was, indeed, linked to Austin’s chart-bursting pollen count.
Intellectually I knew I lived in the self- proclaimed ‘Allergy Capital of the USA’ yet since I had no idea about the link between seasonal allergies & depression it took far too long (and far too many depressed texts. sorry about that.) for me to put this all together.
Hence this almost-fitness but more mental health PSA.
Whether you live in the (Live Music &) Allergy Capital of the USA or not—-consider yourself warned and alerted.
Whether your signs of sadness & lethargy are seasonal allergy related or not—consider yourself more aware than I.
(We can discuss the fact I have my masters in counseling later if you’d like. oops!).
Have you ever experienced depression as a by product of seasonal allergies? Or does this, at first glance, all seem as off-the-wall to you as it did to me?
Have you experienced depression in general? I know before I thought I was able to understand how it felt—–and I had no idea.
Id love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.