When I was on the girls junior varsity soccer team in high school, someone thought it would be a good idea to send a squad of junior varsity cheerleaders with us to an away game.
There are no crowds for JV soccer games. They do not play in a stadium. Most often the soccer pitch is partially consumed by one or two baseball diamonds. So what were we doing with cheerleaders on our bus?
There was also a fairly large cultural divide between the girls who chose to play soccer (even though they were not good enough to make the varsity team) and those who chose cheerleading (even though they were not good enough to be football cheerleaders).
We clearly did not want them to cheer at us, and there was no one else to cheer to. Even the home team didn't have any fans. Or any bleachers. So our own personal cheering squad gave up and wandered off, leaving their pompons behind.
At half-time they were still nowhere to be seen so we swiped their gear and put on our own half-time show. I made sure I was on the bottom of the pyramid. I can't stand heights.
I should not be surprised that with this as my only experience as a cheerleader I do a terrible job of cheering myself on. Also the fact that the fight against Depression is so much more internal. And grueling. And hardly sporting at all.
I do have fans and other people cheering me on. I welcome that now, as I didn't in high school. Maybe because my cheerleaders are with me by choice instead of being sent against their will by a sadistic athletic director...
However, I want to do a better job of exhorting myself to do the things that I know I should. Even when I don't want to. I can be so stubbornly non-compliant. Not with the meds, I am definitely a born-again anti-depressant-taking pill-popper. I have noticed a dramatic difference in my capacity to function while on my combined medications.
It is all the other things that I know I am supposed to do that I would really just rather not. And I don't have a personal trainer or a chef or a masseuse or a yogi following me around to remind me to take care of myself. I just have me. And while I might have enough energy to think about maybe doing something, I don't have enough energy to spare on the pep talk that might actually get me off my butt.
I have a plan for the school year (which for me starts next Monday): every Tuesday and Thursday morning I will go to the YMCA after I drop the olders off at school. Then the exercise will just be part of my regular schedule and I won't have to think about it.
Go me. Yay.
I am much better at berating myself for not doing something than I am at cheering myself on to get moving. I am sure I am not alone in this.
My pledge for this week: NO MORE STAYING UP UNTIL 1:00 AM. It makes me stupid for the rest of the day. And is bad for my asthma and allergies and headache and Depression and anger and dealing with stress and, well everything.
Grateful Crap: a comfortable bed, the fact that I can touch-type, knowing that more than two people read my blog and get something out of it.
took meds (150mg sertraline 300mg bupropion)
(got so little sleep last night that I didn't do much today but take a long nap and try not to freak out about the fact that I wasn't going to get anything done today.)
will go take decongestant and non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs right now so they take effect in time for me to go to bed at a reasonablish sort of hour
Drank a bunch of water
Stayed out of the heat
Told funny stories to my children that made us all cry
Quaker, teacher, parent,