It’s 1pm and I just got out of bed. That is rather early for me on a saturday.
I have a problem with the weekends now that I never used to have when I wasn’t depressed. A duality of sorts, it goes something like this.
I spend the working week dying for the weekend to come, mostly because I don’t want to have to get up early and go to work. Not because I dislike my job, but because, y’know, I’d rather be asleep. I say this to myself even though I know full well that being at work is very good for me as it gives my mind something to focus on and distracts me from the bad mind shit. Conversely when my mind isn’t focused I get that familiar old cog-in-the-machine type mindset that just makes things that little bit worse. But still I want the weekend to come.
So then saturday arrives and, right on cue, the boredom monster knocks loudly on the door and barges his way in without even saying hello.
Now this is not regular boredom. This is a mind wrecking, ass fucking, mundane twelve-inch hunting knife slicing through your every thought. I have about eighty-seven things I could do around the house on a saturday alone but the desire to even attempt any of them is crushed underfoot by the jackbooted heel of that twisted fuck. Videogames? No. Housework? HELL no. Movies? Can’t be bothered with the effort to pick one out. Sleep? OK yeah sounds good. Boredom when you are depressed is seriously one of the worst symptoms, it drives me insane bit by bit and leaves me sitting there confused as fuck. I KNOW it will only take a slight modicum of effort to stifle this feeling, but I just can’t do it.
It’s usually closer to 3pm, sometimes 4pm by the time I roll out of bed. Which of course only exacerbates things because I think to myself ‘Damn, well that’s most of Saturday wasted which means you’re one step closer to having to go back to work…’ and then the whole cycle begins again.
So yeah, weekends are now (largely) a strange confusing beast. Of course there are times when this doesn’t happen. The random precision of depression is another one of it’s most fucked up symptoms. You never know when or which part of it is going to strike.
Today it isn’t quite as bad as it usually is actually. I woke up around 12:30, glanced at my phone and actually wanted to get out of bed to write this post. Is that progress? Who knows, maybe.
I’m going to listen to some music and wait for my wife to get home. It’s sunny today so god forbid I might even go outside!