Just Getting Out of Bed...

Do you ever feel as if just getting out of bed is hard? I remember the first time I felt that way. I was a teenager, and my parents had divorced (not to mention their fighting). I couldn't bring myself to go to school, so I stayed in bed all day, watching old movies. I talked about doing bad things to myself. My mother was very worried and managed to convince me to go live with her brother and his family for a while. Fortunately, that ended up snapping me out of it.

Today isn't one of those days that getting out of bed feels hard, but I've been there. Today, I've made plans to meet with a friend or two for lunch. Yesterday, I swapped a picture book manuscript with a writer friend and got some great feedback, so I feel good about that, but I can feel the anxiety beginning -the feeling I get as work starts up again (I substitute teach). I wouldn't be anxious if I didn't have such trouble believing in myself and my self-worth. Some of this is from having grown up with an abusive bipolar alcoholic for a father and having PTSD as a result of it, and the rest is from the mental illness I inherited - depression, OCD, anxiety. I keep feeling unvaluable, not matter what I do. It's not as bad as it was back when I wouldn't go to school, but it's always there. I'm always fighting it.

For instance, I keep getting called back to substitute teach (mostly elementary school music), but I always feel anxious - that I'll forget something or make a mistake. Of course, I don't handle defeat well. I end up turning my anger in at myself. That ends up in depression. I don't remember all of the names of the instruments, and I can pick out only less-complicated tunes on the piano. That carries over into regular classroom subbing where I can't remember the details about ancient Greece or Rome, or I forget how to do fraction mutliplication no matter how many times i review it. That's part of the problem with having depression and anxiety.

The second time I had a serious problem with depression was when I was away at my first year of college. I felt I'd been sent away - evicted - from the family, even though my mother tried to do what was best for me. I became homesick, and I didn't have good study skills so I didn't do well in school (That's why I was so pleased to get A's and B's at school when I returned as an older adult and took fewer classes.). I began to start talking to myself, just because it gave me a sense of control over my worried roommate. I was on academic probation by the end of my first year, and so I went home to work. Still, my mother had to practically push me out of the house when it came time for me to move out on my own. Yet I was happy when I finally made the move.

The third time I had to get extra help was, of course, when my mother died. My psychiatrist upped my meds, and I upped my visits to my psychologist. The therapy helps, but still I struggle to pat myself on the back for a job well done. Even with writing. I should just be proud of myself for writing and self-publishing books, but instead I devalue what I do by looking at how few books have been bought, even though poetry is not in much demand.

I'm feeling pretty good today (oh, you couldn't tell?). I have lunch plans with a friend or two - something that always lifts my spirits, and yesterday a writer friend and I switched picture book manuscripts and she gave me some great feedback on my manuscript. I wish I could share it with you here, but I have to wait to see if a publisher picks it up. I guess I'm writing this to just say that you aren't alone if you can't give yourself credit. My therapist said I should be proud of myself just for writing books - that many people don't even - or can't even - do that. He tells me what I write is good, but I just don't feel it. Maybe someday I will. He tells me the same thing about substitute teaching. Not everybody can get up in front of a class of kids and teach.

The best way I've found to progress forward is to take things a bit at a time and walk through the fear. Break the challenge up into baby steps and keep moving forward. One of the Facebook groups to which I belong approaches writing in this same way. Just write for 10 minutes every day and, eventually, you'll have a novel. I'm enjoying working on picture books, and I hope one day one (or all) of them get published so I can share them with the kids for whom I sub. We'll see...

Have a great day, Everybody!