I am forgetting how much I enjoy in-person interaction.
This past weekend had been booked as a Bridal Shower in a northern state.
We were to drive up Friday, attend the bridal shower on Saturday, visit Sunday and return home on Monday. This was planned months before Covid 19 made its entrance on the world stage.
Reality is a three-day weekend spilling into Monday, with NO travel, no bridal shower.
Saturday morning, we did venture into town, but the bulk of the three days has been in self-isolation. Now don’t get me wrong, we have a list of projects waiting to be completed. And many of those are now done. And the odds are good we will continue to knock things off the list before today is over.
Tomorrow, for me the self-isolation ends, and I go back to social distancing.
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Having some me-time, some self-care time has been a wonderful thing. My attitude towards it is good because I can blame it on coronavirus keeping me home. My self-care time would look a lot different if we had driven north. It might have included a walk on the beach at the ocean or take out from the best seafood restaurant ever opened.
And renewing bonds with family would have been a big part of my self-care.
As it is, I am staying in contact via text, email, and good old-fashioned phone calls. This has reinforced my desire to see people in person once the all-clear sounds. Reading the latest updates this morning reminds me that this will not be a quick process.
So, I am going to dig into day three of my list.
This is self-care, for me, on steroids. I can finally picture what part of my retirement could look like when the right time comes. I see other portions of it devoted to giving back to others. And more time with family. The future looks brighter by far than it did a year ago.
As April approached last year, I was very much circling the drain.
My sense of the future was that there was no future. There was only a wall with nothing behind it. And the closer I got to the wall, the deeper I was descending into the abyss. A year ago, I was so far over the edge, I couldn’t even see where the edge was. And the closer I got to my hospital stay, the less I was in touch with the world.
My reality consisted of a very limited circle of events; I was self-isolating.
Learning tools and strategies to help combat my Major Depressive Disorder, I am confident that I can stay out of the abyss. But my journey towards a balanced life will not be a straight line. I have had many ups and downs over the past 11 months. As I approach my one-year anniversary of acknowledging and facing my depression, I will be on guard.
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My plan is to enjoy day three of self-isolation, returning to reality tomorrow morning.
My concealed depression is written under the alias “Depression is not my boss.” I have certifications in SMART Recovery and am a Global Career Development Facilitator.
Last year, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder.
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