“Antonin Artaud wrote on one of his drawings, “Never real and always true,” and that is how depression feels. You know that it is not real, that you are someone else, and yet you know that it is absolutely true.”
― Andrew Solomon, “The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression”
Just a quick post to share a quote from this excellent book. An expression I often carry with me lately.
The results of late night laundry: Saturday night I forgot to take my medication. My goal was to finish laundry while my husband slept. He is generally the one to do laundry, but we got home very late and with me not needing to work the next day, I volunteered to stay up late doing it so he could sleep. I went to bed at 1:30am, which is very unusual to me, as my normal time is around 10pm or 11pm. I was so tired I didn’t give a thought to medicine.
So what did I miss? I slept without my blood pressure medicine, plus Buspar and Effexor. Did I notice? Yes. I slept a LOT. Woke up around 11am, after shorter waking up intervals around dreams, complicated, vivid dreams like I haven’t had for months. Got up, went down for the morning medicine, and that is when I noticed. My “Saturday PM” container was still full. I gobbled them right there and then, confused of what would be worst, to double doses or skip them until later tonight.
Thinking more clearly now, I will basically have too much Effexor in my system tonight, when I take it again. Everything else will should be fine, other than how groggy I feel right now.
The dreams though. What a trip I haven’t taken in a long time. I used to have 2 different types of amazing dreams: the very fiction-like full of detail ones, and the lucid dreams. Both have been gone since taking medication for anxiety and depression, specially the lucid dreams. I still seem to have some interesting dreams, but can never fully recall them.
Squirrels: set a new record in my backyard, I have seen 5 of them at the same time playing in my yard. Always a joy to watch these guys.
Monday greys: I like blue too much to call it Monday blues. But yeah, it is here, trying my best to keep my feeling good wave. Breaking my apathy in pieces to understand it. Is it defense against perfectionism? Is it me going “black and white” again, where I am either 100% into something, or apathetic?
This year I have finally completed the Inktober challenge. After a shy attempt last year that only lasted a couple of days, this year I made all 31 drawings, one each day.
It feels rewarding and surprising. I did not expect I would have the discipline or energy. October was a difficult month, changing doctors and medications, trying different things to feel better, so I had the perfect excuse to be lazy about Inktober.
It all felt a lot like working out: most days I did not want to do it, but would drag myself to it, and one minute into it that resistance evaporated. What I thought would take me 10 minutes would take me 30 or 60 minutes, and I’d enjoy myself drawing and planning and seeing the final result.
The learning process of it was surprising, because it made me realize that one drawing a day would not be enough to reach the level of skill of my favorite artists. I’ll need hours and hours, many months and years of practice and study to get there. While I do not plan to be a professional artist, I want to keep learning and improving.