Depression – galloblog

Life is rude

When I was 16, I was a cashier for a family owned sporting goods store. Almost all of my coworkers were burly surly men with hearts of gold. Being 16, I became quite attached. I remember one day someone let it slide that one of the burly surlies was leaving. I burst into tears. “You know he’s not mad at anyone or got fired, right? He’s just leaving,” I remember my boss explaining with a bemused expression on his face. “I’m just going to miss him!” I sobbed. I remember thinking that worklife was inconceivable without this man. I was convinced the next time I drove into work, I would find the building in a heap of rubble.

Lo and behold, the building stood firm. The next week work was fine, maybe even fun. And I was so sad about that. It didn’t seem right that customers kept coming, camo pants kept selling, and I kept ringing people up with my signature charm. The store should have stuttered. It wasn’t right that someone who was such a big figure in that store could just suddenly be gone and nothing skippped a beat.

I have since recovered from my first work-departure trauma, but this same idea still holds true. This year has been majorly suck -o. We’ve lost a kind caring Grandpa, two dogs that we practically considered our children, and a nephew with a sweet purity and strength that my heart is eternally seared. Each loss was so heavy. And of course we had some sweet friends and family who expressed sympathy, but after a few weeks everyone moved on. Including me, in some sense. I still get up in the morning, I still get very stressed about work, and I still get excited when one of my favorite tv shows drops a new season. I guess I should be grateful that I’m not in a dysfunctional depressive state, but I almost want to be. I don’t want the universe to think it can get away with that sort of crap and it not change anything. It doesn’t seem right that people or doggies that I loved that much can just vanish and I keep functioning like they were random bugs that splattered on the windshield.

Whatever happens, life will go on. And I think that’s incredibly rude.

the 6 stages of post-break-up grief, in gifs

#1 – Nothing but pure, unadulterated despair

#2 – when you realize it’s really over and most of the great men in the world got married when they were 19

#3 – you let all the positive affirmations from friends and family sink in.. maybe goes to your head

#4 – you decide you hate men and resign yourself to be a cat lady forevs

#5 – but then your hormones make a strong case for staying in the game

#6 – hope for the future

Christmas is blue without the rhythms

When I was younger, the entire season of Christmas was full of twinkly magic. Seriously, I remember feeling this warmth and lightness in my heart for at least a week or two before Christmas. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but when I reached a certain age- probably 16 or 17- I remember being aghast that the warm fuzzies were no longer with me.

Actual pic of me as a little girl! Jk (pixabay image)

Now, I’m sad to admit, I can understand why some people hate the holidays. I don’t even have to deal with a horrible family dynamic or extensive travel, but I still get stressed out by the shopping, coordinating of diva schedules, etc.

But, it seems practically insane to be irritated by what is essentially a feast with the people that I love the most.

So what’s the prob, Bob?

Tonight I was watching this Amazon Prime documentary The Science of Fasting. Yep, this is how I spend my evenings these days. It was a little bit too big-Pharma-conspiracy-theorist for my taste, but it did have some pretty compelling evidence that fasting can be healing and restorative. Anyway, it made me think about how fasting was a given in the Biblical times. And that made me think about how feasting was not simply tolerated in the Old Testament law, but required! So that makes me think that both fasting and feasting are spiritually healthy.

And THAT made me think about something I read in this book Sacred Rhythms. It was actually talking about Sabbath, and how important it was to have rhythms in your life of work and rest. Truth! 🙌 It’s both mentally and physically straining to work constantly, but for me resting when I have nothing to rest from is actually the most straining of all. They’re best when they go together- work can be a delicious challenge if I’m coming from happy rest, and rest is sweet when I’ve had a productive work week.

So, bringing this wild thought train back to feasting, fasting, and the holiday blues…

I think at least one reason why the holidays, Christmas especially, don’t seem special anymore is because they’re not special anymore. We are surrounded by, or 3 min and $3 away from, large quantities of palpable food pretty much all the time, and we already immediately buy anything and everything that we want.

We’ve made Christmas into a Santa-themed continuation of our already feast-y lifestyles .

I realize this is probably coming out pretty dour, but I don’t mean it to be. This is more of a reflection on how my year-long indulgences can ultimately be joy-zapping. I wasn’t made to indulge. I was made to work, sacrifice, give, etc.

So…. Me thinks I need to take this rhythms/seasons ideer more seriously, oui? Maybe if I had the Christmas spirit of sacrificial giving year around, the Christmas feasts would fit perfectly into that rhythm. TBD if the twinkle magic will also return. A gal can dream! 😴🌠😍

background-2908901_1280 — Please come back, Christmas twinkles! (pixabay image)

Feliz Navidad! 🎅

— EDITORIAL NOTES —

Please note that I recognize that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ. I hope that this post did not make anyone think otherwise. But whether or not you are a Christian, Christmas traditionally also involves a celebratory feast. And it is the lack of joy in that feast that got me thinking about feasts generally and their purpose and why I and many others can be total jerks about what are supposed to be joyous events! Thank you for your understanding, and God bless America.