As in "depression"... not "drama". Or "danger". Or "diaper".
So. All my life I've battled with mild depression. For the most part it hasn't been too much of an issue and I've been able to bootstrap myself back to "normal" (ha!). But especially during the really tough times, being a single mother and feeling overwhelmed and terrified of what the future holds, I would feel like there was a 30 lb weight sitting on my chest. I had a hard time sleeping which only magnified the feelings. I ate for comfort. I sat around and distracted myself with TV and then when the World Wide Web hit, I immersed myself in the online world. I could happily avoid any and all issues by surfing the web, playing any number of games and chatting with strangers. Granted, some of those strangers have become my heart and soul, my best friends, my confidants and my greatest support system, but at the time it was a way to avoid dealing with what was going on inside the beast.
I finally acknowledged that there might be more going on than I was willing to admit to so I went to a therapist. Her name is Brenda Barton (http://www.brendabarton.com/) and she was so amazing and did so much towards letting me find coping mechanisms for dealing with my low times. But... money was tight and when I went back to work I wasn't able to keep up with my sessions and even though working with her gave me a new outlook on life, I still carry around some of the demons that crippled me before.
This last month has been tough. I can't say it's been the toughest time of my life, but it's been a hard one. The worst part has been my work. I'm not a big fan of the job hunt so historically I've settled for less than I deserve rather than get out there and make it happen. I'm in this situation now and the pressure of dealing with it has re-introduced the 30lb weight on my chest. It's been very tough on the people around me to watch my normally sunny disposition fade into a dull shade of grey. I've had no energy and motivation. It's been a struggle to keep up with the exercise, but I've done what I could.
Last Friday night was bad. Really bad. After a week of working my ass off I was feeling depressed, demoralized and just crappy. But I put on my runners and went out. To date, I've only been walking when I go out, but Friday I decided to throw caution to the wind and run a bit. Previously when I started running I followed the Sun Run Training Program and it was a great way to ease myself into this great new habit. So Friday I started by running 30 seconds and then walking until I caught my breath. Rinse. Repeat.
Can I tell you how much better I felt when I got back? Like... a million times better. I remember that feeling of accomplishment when I finished a run, that euphoria, that inner glow. I'm not quite at the same level that I was before, but I remember it and I want it back.
HOWEVER, I went out again tonight and I think I finally ground my runners into a pulp. Coupled with the fact that my bra straps kept sliding down my shoulders it wasn't the most inspiring run.
But I went from going 30 seconds at a time to running a full minute at a time and IT. FELT. GOOD.
Win.
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