I hate chaos, which is weird because most people perceive me as working best in the middle of chaos. But it’s not … precisely true. I love the “controlled chaos” of very, very, very busy. My happiest years (except romantically. I didn’t have Dan yet, and I can’t even imagine that now) were in college, when I was going to school, tutoring AND had a busy social life.
Partly, of course, it’s that I am a depressive and also an introvert. These two feed off each other, because if I get my wishes, I sit in a room, with my own thoughts, and when they turn to depression, there’s nothing I can do. And the depression feeds the introversion. The bottom stage of this is me in a dark room both physically and metaphorically.
And my portion of hating chaos can also feed depression, because I can lock myself into a girder of obligations that leaves no room for variation. So, it’s difficult.
I’ve learned the signs:
Wanting less and less to have people around till in the final stage, I can’t endure MY FAMILY around, and isolate myself even from them.
My work becoming more noise and motion than work. I am at the computer ALL the time, but nothing gets done.
But I also have “silent depressions” — not as much as my husband, whose depressions are always silent — in which I just channel to the least productive possible things, and feel perpetually out of sorts.
Forcing myself to go out. The going out might be just a walk around the block, where I see maybe one person and their dog, but it seems to help.
Weirdly, starting a PHYSICAL project where I have to give it my all and go to bed exhausted helps. (You’d think it didn’t.)
Coming up with a for-the-love project I do in the evenings (and which isn’t too messy, because chaos) helps.
So does taking an hour and a bit before going to bed and just watching something with Dan.
Keeping all of this going is difficult, particularly as my internals tell me we need to be alone and very, very quiet.
Part of the problem is I hate chaos. So in the middle of a protracted self-administered cure for depression, life is upside down and sideways, and that might push me into depression again.
All this to say: My house looks like a construction zone but I’m only mildly depressed and obsessive about the elections.
However, it might be time to bring it all in, put away the paints and resume the writing schedule and the — relaxing — walks.