I’ve been having a very up and down time lately in terms of my mental health.

There are a lot of factors I could attribute this to. I’ve been working harder than I’ve ever worked before, with less downtime than I’ve ever had at any time in my life, for one thing. I’ve introduced ADHD medication to a cocktail of “bear with me, brain” drugs, a cocktail whose efficacy I was already skeptical about.

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And I’m lonely. I’m really, really lonely; trying to make friends as an adult is so hard, especially when you have little to no time to dedicate to the kinds of baby friendships that simply will not grow without time and effort.

But, more than any of that, I suffer from depression. I’m depressed. Mine is a chronic illness that ebbs and flows in how debilitating it feels, sometimes giving me weeks or months of relief from its clutches, but it’s always there, waiting to welcome me back into its arms.

So. Like I said, a lot of different factors at play.

The effect of it all is that I’ve been struggling with feeling low and overwhelmed and, at times, worthless and unlovable and kind of hopeless in the sense of believing I’ll ever get out of this mire. And when this happens? A lot of normal, everyday things get really, really hard.

Things like…

showering || don’t panic! I can wash myself, on a very basic level. I can tie my hair up in a messy bun and I can turn on the water and I can get in the shower and I can wash my body – mostly my armpits and my crotch, you know yourself – with a bar of soap and I can get out and dry myself off and put on my PJs and get into bed. That feels like a lot. But the type of shower that includes hair washing and conditioning (and then combing and styling and drying), shaving, scrubbing, face-washing… That kind of shower feels like 10,000 steps too many. The “everything shower” becomes a very, very rare occurrence.

talking on the phone || texting, voice note-ing, messaging on Instagram or on Facebook or wherever we happen to be messaging? All fine. Talking with my human voice while holding the phone or keeping headphones in (or on) my ears? Impossible. And as for an out-of-the-blue phone call, even if it’s from someone I love and would ordinarily love to talk to?! GET OUT OF HERE WITH THAT. I simply cannot answer the phone and then will spend 20 minutes panicking about what kind of message I can send that person to explain (a) why I didn’t answer the phone and (b) why I’m absolutely not calling them back.

reading || I think, for me, these moments of extremely low mood so often come hand in hand with feelings of abject panic and high anxiety that I just find it really hard to slow down and kind of unplug from my sense of ohmygodwhyhaveigotsomuchtodoandwhycantidoitwhenwilligetthetimetodoit – which is exactly what I need to do in order to plug into the world of a good book. This is why, instead, I’ve been watching hours and hours of Summer House.

making semi-decent meals || things I’ve had for dinner recently include – but are not limited to – Special K Red Berries; Greek yogurt with honey and peanut butter; many portions of beans on toast (when we found baked beans at Costco we amassed quite the stockpile); pretzel sticks (above: these are elite snacks, FYI) and Dubliner cheese (I believe this is called “girl dinner”); a hard-boiled egg and some cucumber slices; toast with butter; toast with jam; a banana; too many salted caramels (also elite snacks).

working out || there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t curse the fact that, in our new house, we don’t have a fenced-in back garden (yet) and, as a result, the dog needs to be walked several times a day – but I do recognise that actually this is a blessing in disguise, because without this dog and his godforsaken need to relieve himself at regular intervals, I’m not sure I’d be moving my body right now at all. (And yes, I know exercise would make me feel better. I know. But at the moment I feel a bit like I’m suspended in some kind of quicksand, and the more I struggle against it, the further down I sink. So I just have to kind of accept it.)

flossing || I find it hard to believe there’s anyone out there who flosses every day. I just don’t believe there is. (If you’re about to leave a comment saying you floss every day, know that I will be convinced you’re lying.) At best, I manage it maybe twice a week. At worst, like right now? lolol I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than even attempt to put a string of floss between my teeth.

But there are also things I can still do!

Things like…

showing up for work || would you believe me if I told you I’ve never missed a day’s work due to my depression? I’ve missed deadlines, but I’ve never just not produced the work I’ve said I’ll produce – similar to this Substack (sorry), I’ve just produced it a little later than promised – and I’ve never called in sick to a job because of my mental health. I’m not necessarily proud of this; I think we should be able to take time off from the capitalist machine when we’re really struggling, and the pressure I feel to be productive even when I feel like Atreyu in the swamp of sadness really does nothing but exacerbate the sadness itself.

tidying || sometimes, when I feel absolutely and totally overwhelmed by, well, everything, I go into a kind of fugue state where I just clean and tidy my house to within an inch of its life. I think this kind of thing feels easy because I know what I’m doing and I don’t need to make any decisions as I’m doing it. It’s just a kind of autopilot activity, and the rhythm of it all feels weirdly soothing.

writing to-do lists || listen, just because I’m in a total state, and feel utterly unable to get started on anything doesn’t mean I can’t sit down and write a completely overwhelming and perhaps unhelpful list of the things I should be doing. That being said, I’m not entirely convinced this is actually unhelpful; in a way, dumping everything on the page feels like opening a valve and letting a little of the pressure out.

cuddling my kids || and, truly, anyone who’ll accept cuddles. Right now, that happens to be my two youngest children and my husband. But there’s nothing that makes me feel better than being hugged by someone I love.

I’m not listing all of the millions of things I do, when I’m feeling terrible, that I know are not going to make me feel better – and may, in fact, end up making me feel worse. Things like scrolling Instagram or TikTok for hours, filling my online shopping cart with things I can’t afford, eating things I know are going to upset my stomach, or looking up people I’m jealous of, to see how much better they’re doing at life than I am. Let’s just not mention any of those.

P.S. A belated happy American Mother’s Day to all who celebrate. These kinds of days can be so fun and affirming and heartwarming but also incredibly difficult and heartbreaking and full of grief for those we’ve lost or those we never got to meet. Either way, my advice is to get someone you love to give you a big hug. Tomorrow might (might!) just be a better day.

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