When I say I was a high-functioning person, I really mean it. I would wake up at 5 a.m., go to a CrossFit class, come home to prepare the kids’ lunches, and then head to work, where I managed a team of five people. After work, I’d come home, cook a nice dinner, clean up the kitchen, and tidy the house. Before bed, I’d read my books. Even when I watched TV, I’d be knitting or doing puzzles at the same time.
At the peak of my depression, some days I didn’t even brush my teeth. Most days, I spent all day on the couch or in bed, playing mindless games on my phone while watching something on TV. Too many nights, I’d Uber dinner (that I couldn’t afford) because even cooking a pot of pasta and heating up hot dogs felt like too much.
I tried so many things—meditation, self-help books, therapy, and positive self-talk. I’d like to say I tried exercise, but even a five-minute walk felt impossible. Nothing helped.
What pulled me out? What got me to the point where I feel like I can start rebuilding my life? Medication. A combination of SSRIs and antipsychotics. Now I’m off the couch. Now I’m making progress. Now I feel like I can set goals.
Goals for this month:
- Make some money.
- Run 3–5 km.
Not too lofty, but it’s a start.