You do the best you can for yourself. You let people offer their love and support. If you have friends that want to stop by and do things for them you let them, because you know it's as much for them as for you. You let your parents be your parents and tell them how much you need them. You put a stool in your tub so taking hot showers doesn't mean trying to stand the entire time. You watch funny movies that make it worth having coughing fits every time you laugh. You make as many phone calls as you can, send out lots of e-mails, and work on keeping in touch with people that you can't see in the comfort of your own home. And if someone wants to give you a gift, say like a knitted cap, you let them. Hint.
The only thing I can think to do when I get like that is to force myself to get out of bed and get away from it. It feels like a bad cold to me and I just need to get away from the germs that linger in my apartment to feel better.
I can empathize with the feeling of not wanting to do anything. My life is now revolving around a never ending job hunt that I don't think will yield me anything other than a mind numbing existence. I can't bring myself to take a job where I answer phones and answer idiotic questions for $11 or less an hour. But there's nothing in San Diego for me that is like what I had or anywhere near close to it. I've definitely kept it hidden on my journal, so I think it's a little funny I'm saying it here, but I am desperately scared. Not sure what the future holds for me other than a lot of unknown.
There's a difference between a desire to live (as in "have life") and a desire to live (as in "day-to-day living"). Not wanting to deal with the mundanities that wear you down - nothing wrong with that. It's crap. Me? I have to find the small things that make it worthwhile. And hang onto it until the next thing comes along. Maybe it's the bird tweet outside my window. That's good for a few breaths. Then the cat purring will be against my arm. Whatever it takes, because I know the crap feeling will pass. Just like the coughing spell. Just like the lethargy.
Count your spoons and don't overuse them. How many times have you read about my Mondays and how little I actually did over the weekends. Miscounting spoons is still miscounting them.
If you have to, take life one breath at a time. And don't forget to cry. But also, maybe more importantly, don't forget to smile. Laughing may cause coughing, but smiling doesn't. So ... seize the smile.
maybe get a script for antidepressants? I took them while in treatment and it helped a lot. Extreme fatigue is a sign of depression (as well as a side effect of treatment).
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I can empathize with the feeling of not wanting to do anything. My life is now revolving around a never ending job hunt that I don't think will yield me anything other than a mind numbing existence. I can't bring myself to take a job where I answer phones and answer idiotic questions for $11 or less an hour. But there's nothing in San Diego for me that is like what I had or anywhere near close to it. I've definitely kept it hidden on my journal, so I think it's a little funny I'm saying it here, but I am desperately scared. Not sure what the future holds for me other than a lot of unknown.
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Count your spoons and don't overuse them. How many times have you read about my Mondays and how little I actually did over the weekends. Miscounting spoons is still miscounting them.
If you have to, take life one breath at a time. And don't forget to cry. But also, maybe more importantly, don't forget to smile. Laughing may cause coughing, but smiling doesn't. So ... seize the smile.
And now you are cared about a great deal. Hugs.
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