Wednesday, July 27, 2016


The only barred rock I have left.


Here's the worst thing about anxiety and depression- everything in the world points to the fact that when you're suffering, that if you just got off your fucking ass and did something you'd be fucking fine. Therefore, you must like to be anxious and depressed.

And even if the "world" doesn't say that, you do. Your mind does. And then it beats the crap out of you because you're not getting off your fucking ass and doing something.
Even if you ARE getting off your fucking ass and doing something, your mind tells you that you're not doing the right things and you should be feeding the homeless and cleaning your own house and painting and changing your environment and doing yoga and meditating and finding meaning in all of it and getting over your own damn self.

So. Okay. You know what it's like when you wake up at two or three or four in the morning and you can't sleep and your brain just keeps spinning on and on about all of your inadequacies and your sins and mistakes and your complete and utter failure at everything you've ever done in your life?
Have you ever experienced that?

Well. Being anxious and depressed is like that, except ALL THE TIME, TWENTY-FOUR HOURS A DAY. And you could have the entire Supreme Court sitting in front of you along with the Dalai Lama and Jimmy Carter and everyone you love and sweet baby Jesus himself and they could be telling you that no, you are a fine individual and everything is fine and none of it matters anyway, that we're not even equal to a dust mote in the cosmic galaxy of the universe, no more important that a molecule of a cat poop in the giant litter box of life and you'd still feel like somehow, some way, you are the most worthless individual on this and any other planet and goddam- have you looked at the mold on your door frames? and look at Hilary Clinton- she ain't sitting around crying over her losses, she's just become the first woman ever nominated as president of the United States of America and look at Mother Teresa, okay, don't, she was weird. But still.

And look at yourself, your crazy brain says- here you are, a rich (by most standards in the world) white woman in a first world country who has everything that anyone could ever want, in fact, anything that YOU could ever want and you're weeping over door frame mold and friends who have been dead for 22 years and if the fucking mold is bothering you that much, go wash it off. Plus, everyone dies.


Like that.

So. Okay. Moving on.

I am getting off my ass now. I've been trying off and on all morning to get the cloth parts off of two infant bouncy seats in order to wash them so that I can donate the seats to a local teen drop-in center for a big baby shower they're having for teen mamas and I can't even figure out how to do that and I know I've done it before and there you are.

Add that to the big pile of shit I can't manage.
I can't do.
I'm incapable of.
I'm too stupid to figure out.

It's all so ridiculous.

As am I.


  1. Oh Mary it's not ridiculous. It's a disease and it hurts body and mind and it's awful and a dark land and I'm so sorry you have to be lost in it. Wishing you swift healing.

  2. I did figure out the baby seat thing. There is that.
    I love you too, Rebecca.

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

  4. I'm thankful that for me if that voice says that crap to me in the middle of the night I tell it to shut the fuck up. My hope is that you are able to do that successfully more often too.

  5. It's most definitely not ridiculous. This helps me sometimes(I've got the club t-shirt in four different sizes): Where is this thought/feeling? Inside me. Then I'm bigger than it is. It's far from a magic fix, but often it lets me breathe a minute. Hoping this or something else helps, and pronto. Dee

  6. Some days are a lot harder than others. I've been sitting here in a funk, frustrated and feeling stupid and trapped by stupid things too. Sorry you are having a similar day, but misery loves company, so your post made me smile and wish I could give you a hug and help you laugh at the same thoughts I keep having. I can't let myself be miserable without judging myself for being a spoiled entitled white woman. I like what Jill said, that voice needs to stf up.
    So sorry about your chickens, I would be distraught. And Lynne. You only miss her so much because you loved her so much. Life is not fair, not at all. Hugs to you.

  7. Sue. Not Lynne. So sorry. I cant remember shit, today or ever. xo

  8. This torment is all too hideously familiar. I'm sorry you or any of us suffer so. I hope it's starting to ease up a bit.

  9. I try to have talks with myself, but the bitch just won't listen! I know I've got more blessings than hardships, I know I should appreciate it all, but being an ungrateful slug is added to my list of shortcomings. Yes, it's a vicious circle, and impossible to believe while in the depths of it that this, too, shall pass. But, in the end, it does. Sending you big hugs today!

  10. Yup. That's exactly how it is. Today I am not even going to try for a few hours. I am going to go sit in the sun and read or colour and probably cry.

  11. I'm the same way, been that way all my life.
    On bad days, I say all the same things you do.
    On good days, I say "you know what Liv? This is who you are, this is just you, not good, not bad, just you." And everything gets a little lighter. It's been a fucking hard road to even grasp this a little but it grows on me.
    Your kids don't try to change you, Mary.
    Glen doesn't try to change you. They accept you for who you are.
    I wonder sometimes, why we try so hard to change ourselves. Why can't this part live at peace with all the other parts? Why does it have to go away? There is so much light in it, but because we tell ourselves it's wrong, we don't see the light.

    I listened to an incredible program on NPR on Sunday about a little town called Geel in Belgium. It is about 60% populated by mentally ill folks who have been rejected by their families and the medical system. They are safe here to just be themselves. This is what the town does, they simply accept all forms of mental illness as fine, normal, because everyone has them to some degree. They don't try to change anyone. The result is that everyone gets lighter and sometimes symptoms even change or actually disappear because it is such a relief to know that you are just you. The norm there is acceptance not judging of the mentally ill, not even by themselves.

    Perhaps this should have been an email, it is long. But I just accept you the way you are, Mary. I like the whole package. I think you probably feel the same way about me even though I am mentally ill. Even though I have very good days and very bad days you don't try to change me. My mental illness is just one of the parts of me and so is yours, all good.
    At least, that's how I think.

  12. Mary, I understand this intimately. I really do. You're not alone. (I like the sound of Geel.)

  13. I can relate to so much of this post, and so many of comments too ... yes, Geel sounds cool.
    I get that 5am stuff , I lay there paralysed with fear ... what have I done? what am I doing? where will this all end?
    I've just been writing a post re the lists of I write of stuff that I intend to do/will do this year (last year/next year) I may as well call it "the big pile of shit that I can't manage"... I like that.
    One thing, we are certainly not alone in this.
    Sending love x

  14. Anxiety and depression infect and affect your whole thinking . Such a good description Mary of it all. Mary you are beautiful and give so much to your family , friends and your blogging friends. Sending you a warm embrace x

  15. You are not ridiculous or stupid, or incapable. Fangirling on you here, but you are mf-ing brave and true and real, and I love you and I've never met you.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.