My blood tests came back normal for B12 – I was disappointed. That may sound odd but there is a lot of logic to it. It is not a wish to have a problem, but a wish to have something fixable. Though objectively measurable would be good too. From chronic fatigue to depression I am fed up with subjective conditions. Other people can see the effects but no-one can measure the good day or the bad day, or even the bad day coped with well bluffing people into thinking it’s a good day. That leaves the pressure on me to balance my own care, yet I can’t necessarily do that.
When I am low but not totally crashed out the boundaries are all blurred. Is my hiding under the duvet typing this* because the house is cold and I’m a miser, or because I can’t face the big wide world and it’s my safe zone– security blanket effect, or because I am tired and want to be horizontal? It is partly a mix of all of those, with a dash of bad habits becoming engrained, but in any one day the proportions vary.
But if I am feeling the depression then I am also likely to be beating myself up with guilt, and so likely to accuse myself of bad habit laziness for my lack of proper eating, housework and general life stuff, let alone work and especially avoiding people because I can’t face the world. So does that mean that the more I blame laziness and bad habits then the deeper my depression is? But sometimes it will be habit and laziness, and bad behaviour like watching iplayer after midnight which will leave me overtired next day.
This morning I saw someone on an overdue visit and survived, enjoyed her stories of long ago, and left wracked with guilt that I had let myself put off the visit, this afternoon I went to see someone who had asked me at church to call because she wanted a chat. All week I had been dreading it and still was. Why? I think it was because she isn’t the sort of person to feel a need of me for a there, there care visit, and she will state her mind quite firmly about issues. Add in my own guilt about visits not made....
I braced myself at the doorstep as if I was at the head teacher’s door. And it turned out that she was offering to help out, that she wanted to do something useful with her time and lots she couldn’t do but she can get around in the car and can listen and chat. In their village chapel there is not currently any folk stuck at home but she could help in other places if I could use her. I was reduced to tears at the offer as the neighbouring church has so many in need of regular visits, and so few left to visit.
She affirmed me in my role as a minister despite the guilt I confessed to feeling about avoiding visits when my depression sends me under the duvet too often. She reminded me that God knew my strengths and weaknesses when he called me to this – and called me as that person. Theoretically I know that but being reminded by someone else is precious, and in an unexpected moment when the guilt was high and I really needed it.
* about 5pm in draft
