It occurs to me that if there ever IS a man in this bed, I am such a miserable shit first thing in the morning that I couldn’t let him spend the night. Or he’d have to sleep in another room and agree to leave me alone until the meds, coffee, and a hairbrush make me eligible for human contact.
“Sorry, man. ‘Cute and easygoing’ doesn’t show up ‘til, like, 11. Right now we’re at ‘bridge troll.’”
One of the things I hate most about depression is… OK, fine, I COULD be. I’ll allow it. But has anyone considered that everything actually IS boring and shitty, and that staying in bed IS, in fact, the solution?
“Well, I worked out for 2 hours this morning, then had to WORK for 8, and now it’s 9 p.m. and taco delivery is on its way, and then I’m gonna go collapse in my bed in a fat, torpid, guacamole-infused heap, so…👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼“
I love being alone in bed so much that I’m not sure adding another person could possibly improve the experience. This is a tad worrisome, ‘cause, ya know, dying alone, but I’m in bed, so…eh. Blankets will fix it.
It occurs to me that, to combat my seasonal bullshit brain, I may have to stop sleeping naked under 400 blankets. I live in a drafty old house and despise getting out of bed even more than usual when it gets cold outside, because I hate feeling cold air on my ass, so I just…don’t get out of bed. Too cold, fuck you, don’t wanna.
Oh, darn. Looks like I’ll have to go buy MORE adorable pajamas. Like…FOR MY HEALTH, really. FOR MORALE.
(Probably also window treatments and a space heater, but it’s more fun to focus on cute pajamas.)
I’ve had numerous discussions with multiple mental health professionals about this, but I still can’t tell if I’m depressed or just lazy. They look the same on me, which is why I have a hard time even saying I have depression, because, like…if you have the option, why are you not still in bed right now? Everyone I know would choose this. Bed is amazing. And depression is a douchebag loiterer.