With the threat of school gone, my anxiety has faded into depression. This is familiar territory, but it’s territory that doesn’t get easier to move through. It’s a mountain range, with deep valleys and high cliffs. There’s nothing to do but keep climbing, slowly, slowly, slowly. It’s boring and it’s hard.
Depression takes away my motivation. I don’t want to read, eat, go out, watch TV, draw, or write. Doing anything but sleep is like pulling myself through tar. I used to wonder what the section of my psychiatrist’s survey meant when it asked “Have you been moving slowly, so that others notice?” Now I know. It’s like I’ve aged fifty years and picking something up takes deep concentration.
Being bored is something I’m trying to accept and work towards. If I’m not bored, it means I’m sleeping, and I don’t want to sleep. I have to exert my brain to think of what to draw and I’m not always excited about what I choose, but I have to fight through it and just keep drawing. I’m not excited about watching a movie, but I force myself to sit and pay attention. All food is unexciting, but I figure out what I need to put in my body (protein, water) and I eat.
Just keep moving.
Just. Keep. Moving.