Depression

Several weeks ago, I got a phone call asking me to teach a class on dealing with depression at an upcoming women's conference. I was diagnosed with depression ten years ago this coming fall. I have been doing a lot of reading in preparation for this lesson I'll be teaching. I also have been feeling more depressed than usual lately, and I keep wondering if this is so that I'll have some fresh examples to use in my class. In spite of everything I know about depression, I still can't seem to snap myself out of feeling this way. Not that I would expect anyone else to be able to do that, but who really holds themselves to the same charitable standard as their neighbor? Last Friday morning Adam was gone at a friend's house and as soon as I put Esther down for her morning nap, I curled up in my own bed. I was feeling really miserable, and I knew that to feel better, I needed to do some of the housework that was getting me down. That is why I headed straight to bed and called my mom. We talked, and I cried, and we laughed and by the end I was loading cups and plates and silverware into the dishwasher. I probably need to call her again, though, because as soon as I post this, I'm headed back to bed.