"I Lost My Tail Again"

Most people know Eeoyore (the donkey from Winnie-the-Pooh) as essentially what depression looks like and there is definitely some truth in that. Eeyore is the “I guess…” to all of his friends’ excitement about the next adventure. The gang gets all enthused about one thing or another and all they’re friend has to contribute is, “I lost my tail again…”

Therein lies the fundamental missing piece of depression from Eeyore’s perspective; his friends understand who he is, what he’s going through, and he never has to hide that he’s having a rough day. The desperate attempt to try and mask loss of interest, lack of excitement, and feeling generally lousy is a normal part of most people with depression’s lives.

A few hours later…

OK, so I was trying to write a diplomatic post about Eeyore and how there are some differences between this sad little donkey and what depression actually feels like. The truth is, I don’t like Eeyore, I think that he makes it look way to easy to wallow in sadness and like there are very few consequences to always being the downer in a friend group. 

If I actually spent the entire time I’ve been depressed- almost 9 years now- wallowing in how hopeless my life feels somedays, or my lack of motivation, or my occasionally crippling social anxiety, I would have no friends at all anymore. I know it’s really damn hard to pick yourself up sometimes. I still feel totally hopeless somedays, like my life has no direction or purpose, (which is widely frustrating given how much work I’ve put into maintaining/improving my mental health) but I still have a life to lead and things to do and people who count on me so despite how desperately I want to curl up in a ball in my bed and never move again, I have to get up and face the day.

I get having a rough day where you just need to lie in bed but allowing (I use this term loosely because I know it doesn’t feel like you have any control over it) it to become a lifestyle only ever makes your headspace worse. Personally, it wasn’t about hauling my butt out of bed all at once and then picking up and having a totally active and “normal” life style, it was about baby steps; doing something little everyday that involved moving around, even if that was just moving around my bedroom redecorating. The last few days I’ve spent mostly in my bedroom at my parents’ but my little thing was that a friend showed me a silly song and I learned to play it on the ukulele (very very badly but it’s lots of fun). Those little things aren’t something that anyone else has to help me with, they are things I accomplished on my own and allowed me to prove to myself that I am still capable of surviving. 

So, right now I have no clue what I’m doing with my life or even my week, but I have a vase of flowers and a ukulele so how bad is life really? I don’t get to mope around like Eeyore and that’s cool with me.