Eternal boredom of a screwed up mind

Today is boring. 

I am watching the hours tick away, it's now been 1pm for the past three hours. I have the dumb dog to keep me company, and I have chores to do, but even they are not doing anything for my perception of time. 

Unless you follow Einstein to the letter, time is a constant, it never changes. The seconds, minutes and hours tick by at a steady rate, never varying from their paths. Never changing, never speeding up or slowing down. So why does it seem like some days time goes faster or slower? Why is today crawling along like a turtle on a seashore? The old adage goes that the more you enjoy the day the faster it will go. If that's the case I must really hate today. It's all in the perception. Today I perceive a long boring day.

I have things to do, I have laundry, I have some light cleaning to do, I can read a book, or play video games. (These of course are in order of priority for anyone curious enough to ask). I could also go for a walk, play with the dumb dog, or if the stars align, have a nap. What I'd like to do is go to work, but because of my messed up head I can't do that. It's not a secret that I suffer from depression, and that's what's working it's way into my head today, depression. All these things I could be doing suffer because in the end I just don't want to. That's the depression talking. There's the obvious difference between want to and have to, don't worry Kim, I have had the laundry going.

Depression plays games with your mind in more ways than one. It causes one to step back from the very essence of being and sit on your butt. It also causes severe grief and sadness. A sufferer of severe depression will sit back and look around at the plethora of things they could be doing and dismiss every opportunity in turn. I am borderline. I can push through the fog and actually accomplish things on most days. I just keep in mind that it's my job now, it's my function in this household to keep these things going, as hard as that may be some days. I've had my days of severe moods and I have spent days staring off into space. Even writing this blog can be a chore at times. It gets even worse when the depression is only one factor of several that one suffers from, like in my case.

In one of my group therapy sessions I met a woman who was very depressed, to the point where she could hardly function without help. She was a single mother without anyone else in the picture so I could only imagine how hard life must be for her, and her daughter, who has to endure mom's episodes. Just as my family must endure mine. This woman said something in group one day that stuck - she described the chore of just getting out of bed in the morning, she hated the day that would come before having any notion of just what it held in store. To get around that terrible feeling she insisted on making her bed as soon as she got up so as not to be tempted to get back into it. Most of us make our beds in the morning, but not for that reason!

I haven't seen her in about a year now, and I hope she's coping well. The group seemed to help her. When we started she never said a word and after about three months she was all talk. At least she opened up to us. I wish her the best.

Six months of Bipolar Group Therapy was good for my soul and my state of mind, but in practical application it is still an ongoing effort. If I could I would do it all over again. Now that I'm not in therapy I have to deal with problems on my own. Time and boredom being the present pains in the neck. Time ticks on. Boredom doesn't go away, not for the clinically depressed. I still have to learn to cope just as my colleague did, but it's an everyday struggle. I am not going through what she is, but I certainly can relate.

Reading back through the past few entries I've noticed that I have myself stuck on the topic of my illness. 

I don't apologize for that, as a matter of fact I am proud of the fact that I can put these problems down as a sort of ongoing journal. This blog has changed it's face from mid-life crisis in progress, to an account of my own illness. And if that is the way of the future of this blog so be it. If I can shed some light on Bipolar Syndrome and depression, then I will have achieved a personal victory.

Besides the fact that I am writing about myself and what I'm going through, I have very little else to write about! I really don't get out much anymore. I have written about the dumb dog among other topics lately but for the most part it comes back to the illness. Hopefully in the future I can get back to writing about my life at intermission, but right now that is just that - a hope.

Cheers.