Seriously, my kitchen is a disaster area.

“I can’t.”

Oh, I can’t even tell you the amount of times I have uttered those two little words in my mind over the last six months or so. I can’t. is what makes me retreat to my bed and curl up under my big fluffy duvet and close my eyes, sometimes sleeping, sometimes crying, sometimes just… laying. Not studying, not writing the assignments that are majorily overdue, not sorting out my kitchen which is still in post move chaos.

I suppose things are not so bleak as previously. I smile and laugh with my children, and enjoy our evening strolls.  I get up early, much as I did before…all this… and the baby and I water the flowers and make breakfast and it is nice. But when the children have gone to school or out to play and the husband is busy and I am faced with the neccessity of working, I freeze up. I can’t. I just can’t.     I make halfhearted efforts to whip the kitchen into shape and congratulate myself when I have cleared some counter space, only to feel dejected when just 12 hours later, it is a mess again. I get out the textbooks and do some reading, but after about 5 pages, realize I have no idea what is being discussed and no understanding of the concepts being explained. I start work on a research report, now 2 months overdue, and freeze 10 words in. I just don’t know what to write, or how to write it.

My doctor told me I had severe depression (what does that even mean?) and that my brain wasn’t working right and I needed to take a break from my studies. I couldn’t bear to do that, so I kept on, and now I’m in a gigantic hole that I can’t seem to climb out of.

This degree means so much to me and I am so dearly afraid it is slipping out of my grasp. At some point after my husband hung my whiteboard over my desk, my kids and my husband wrote messages on it. They say “You can do it!”  “You know you can do it, silly!” “PASS!” and lots of smiley faces.   When I saw that for the first time, my heart leapt. I am so so lucky to have them. They believe in me, and they love me and I don’t want to let them down. Yet, that seems to be the only thing I feel I actually can do at the moment.

I am here. I feel a bit like I’m glued to the seat of the roundabout in my kids favorite park. Just endlessly spinning round and round, dizzy and unable to focus on anything. But, I am here.

And, I have chocolate.

 

 

"If just one person believes in you, deep enough and strong enough..."

I can’t.

If there were ever two words to describe what depression feels like.

– Dooce.com

3 responses to this post.

  1. It’s great that your family is so supportive. That is so important when trying to do anything.

    It’s hard, with kids and chores…and everything. I often find it difficult to focus. And it’s hard when you do the dishes, and minutes later the sink is already full again. But we keep going on. Because that’s what we do.

    You CAN do it.

    Reply

  2. Posted by The General (aka: Mommy) on September 13, 2011 at 5:31 pm

    Hi Jeff,

    Thanks for your comment. Keep on Keepin’ on, right?

    You’re right, by the way, Blues Clues just wasn’t the same after Steve “went to college”…

    Reply

  3. Posted by SkyddsDrake on September 13, 2011 at 6:43 pm

    I’d say that ending quote wraps it up pretty nicely. That’s exactly what it feels like. “I can’t.” That’s why it’s so important to have those people who tell us we can. ^.^ I love the board. It’s absolutely awesome, and a great reminder.

    Actually, your post has inspired me. I’m going to write down, every day, the things I DO. After all, I won’t be able to tell myself “I can’t” when I already did, right? Because I do tell myself that all the time. Hubby keeps telling me to knock it off, but that doesn’t really get me to stop. Focusing on CAN might. So, thank you!

    (See? You CAN. You just helped someone out in a big way by DOING and writing a blog post. 😉 And if I had to guess you DO a whole lot more. Every day. Believe it!)

    Reply

Leave a comment