Lots of little things have gone wrong for me this week.
Part of the problem is that I'm battling another bout of depression. I've been noticing a pattern of getting depressed in May, June, and July the last few years. Absolutely baffling to me. I should be happy...summertime and no school (well, this year I'm still doing school unfortunately which definitely is making things worse.) It can't be the seasonal light thing because the amount of light is highest this time of year. I don't get it. But it seems to keep happening. I told myself that it wasn't going to happen this year. I started my exercising and it does help once I do it. But it's happened anyway.
The worst time is the morning. I don't want to get up and I don't want to do anything. But I've been forcing myself to do it. I've been forcing myself to exercise and then going to Mass everyday is motivation. If I didn't have daily Mass in my routine and if I didn't think that going was important, it would be very easy for me to fall even farther into the depression. My faith has been vital in keeping me going.
Thursday morning I got up in a really down mood. I just wanted a day to myself. I could understand in those moments why some women are tempted to leave home. (Don't worry, I won't!) But I just didn't want any of the responsibilities any more. Of course, at the moment when I was feeling really angry about everything going on around here, the phone rings and it's my elderly aunt. She wanted to know if I would take her to the eye doctor sometime soon. Of course, I had to be pleasant and tell her I would. One of those little moments when I wonder if the dear Lord is looking at me and laughing a little. Just when I'm feeling like I don't want anyone bothering me, He dumps something else on me.
After noon Mass, one of my friends calls me and is very upset because she discovered bedbugs in her sons' bedroom. I can't blame her for being upset but I ended up not getting much done all afternoon because she called me several times asking me questions and for my advice and I ended up spending a lot of time online looking up information on bedbugs. Nasty little things....
Thursday night we went to the Reds' game with our churchhome group and we did have a pleasant time. They played well and won and the thunderstorms which had been predicted held off, but this little edge of sadness still was with me.
Yesterday, I got up again in my depressed mood and forced myself to do my morning routine. After noon Mass, someone told me something that at the time I didn't realize they wanted to keep confidential and in my excitement, I told someone else. It dawned on me later, that knowing this person's personality, they probably wanted to keep it a secret a bit longer and I felt really bad. (It was good news I shared, not bad news or gossip). I called the person to apologize and they were gracious about it, but I still felt bad. The rest of my day was spent doing schoolwork with the boys and household chores. Last night, Mark and I went to Adoration which is always helpful.
This morning I woke up early because I wanted to go to 8:30 Mass. Usually I get up and go to this Mass alone and I love it. I was looking forward to it because I wanted to go alone and stay for a while afterwards and pray in the church all alone. (Do you notice how that "alone" word keeps popping up here?) Of course, this is the morning that Mark decides to get up and go with me. Normally, I wouldn't mind at all, but today I really wanted to go alone. I would have laughed if I hadn't felt so annoyed. I had to remind myself of all the women who would love to have their husband get up and go to Mass with them. It helped some...
Now Michael is gone for the day working for my two nephews. Mark took Beth to a soccer game in Louisville. I'm home alone with John. Not too bad....I figure we will go out together to eat lunch and then I'll take him with me to Adoration at a local parish for a little while since I couldn't stay and pray this morning after Mass. It won't be quite the same, but it doesn't sound too bad.
I have reflected in the last few days about how my faith keeps me going when I'm suffering through the little bouts of depression. I don't know how people who don't have faith find the strength to keep going.
I'm still feeling down, but I know I will get better and getting out does help. So I'm hopeful, and grateful for my faith.
A blessed weekend to all....