Right now. In the midst of depression it’s hard to remember the feeling of “normal” which is why I find blogging about these things so beneficial for me—-when I look back at my words I try to learn and understand where I was and where I want to be heading in the future.

Blogging in the moment, is therapeutic It doesn’t matter if a single person sees these words, I do and that’s what matters.

THAT SAID. My point?

I forget how easy it is to get caught up in the DOWNWARD SPIRAL OF DOOM while in the middle of a depressive episode.

As in the following. True story here folks and for those who are lucky enough not to fight mental illness, you might laugh, but I have a feeling lots of people, will relate.

After my mom’s doctor appointments on Friday, I promised her a giant salad. An adult salad she calls it. Because at the home, they serve teeny tiny pieces of lettuce. She wanted a giant salad with chickpeas, meat, cheese, veggies—-loaded up.

We arrived back at the home in the afternoon and I was BEAT UP and ready for bed. I told mom I would be right back with her salad and my intentions were to go to the store and load up on some goodies for her and make my own to bring. But as soon as I stepped foot in the truck, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Yeah, we have fixings to make salad at home, but not a LOADED ONE (and also I don’t like chickpeas so I knew I didn’t have those in the pantry.) I should have went to the store. Instead, I called the restaurant up the street and ordered a chef salad.

When I think chef salad I think ham, perhaps turkey, cheese, egg…tomato maybe cucumbers.

What this salad had was—-lettuce, onions a few tomatoes and peppers.

UGH. MAJOR DAUGHTER FAIL.

Mom was “glad it had adult lettuce…’ and “was so thankful to have it”  but also “wished it had cheese.”

CHEESE. ARUGH. It didn’t even have cheese!

Now in the real world of everyday healthy people, this would be something to be upset by and then forget about. Not a big deal.

FOR ME? I swear to God it went like this.

Ugh. I’m so lazy. I couldn’t even be bothered to spend 15 minutes at the store to make mom a salad she wanted. Because I’m tired and depressed? Lame. Lame. Lame. And then I didn’t even ask the restaurant what was on the salad. Idiot. I should have at least asked. All mom wanted was some damn cheese on lettuce and I couldn’t even do that right. Loser.

And I almost cried when I left the home. Almost, but for some reason I’ve been on the cusp of almost a lot lately instead of actually crying.

Over. A. Salad.

I could go on and tell a similar story from today, but I think you get the point. All is going along ok and nothing is really that bad and then SUDDENLY THERE IS NO CHEESE ON THE SALAD AND YOU ARE THE WORSE PERSON IN THE WORLD AND NOT DESERVING OF LOVE AND JUST NEED A THREE DAY NAP.

And from that point on, the day is ruined and all you can hope for is a better tomorrow.

To follow up, I DID bring a homemade giant loaded-ass salad to my mom today in the home. And for her roommate. And also pork chops with sauteed mushrooms and onions and garlic and white sauce and rice because of course I have to over compensate for my abject failure in life to produce a proper salad.

Yeah, it still bothers me if I think about it. Also, fuck depression.