When you are depressed.
As I've gotten better this past year, I've come across some 'projects' and organization I did while I was in the throes of depression. And, oh, sweet lord. The mess I created. At the time I thought they would help, would give me a sense of purpose. But even at the time they only served to overwhelm me and therefor I tried to complete them as fast as possible.
Completing something like, ohhh, painting your entire downstairs hallway while you are hurrying? Results in not the greatest outcome. This summer we decided to repaint, and I was so shocked at what I'd done. I'd painted everything the same color as the wall. Every.thing. The walls, the trim, even the doors. No, it didn't give the house some ultra sheek and modern look. The paint I used was not made for doors or trim. Therefore it chipped off everytime you touched it. Which I didn't see while I was depressed. The good thing? Repainting was really satisfying.
Packing for a trip. I've told you the story about our Trip From Hell. How I packed the diapers in the roof top carrier. Here's some other gems. I didn't pack my husbands shoes. So that's why he had them in a plastic bag in the back of the van, just waiting for Sarah to spill Pedia Sure all over them and completely ruin them. I also packed items we wouldn't need unless we were staying for weeks and weeks and didn't have acess to a washing machine. We weren't, and we did. On a seperate trip I neglected to pack shoes, again. For John. Who was learning to walk - in the summer. How exactly could he do that on hot pavement? Planning while depressed was not something I did well.
I planned numerous birthday parties for the kids, which for the most part went well. I was able to pull it together long enough to get some food prepared and a cake made for them. We'd have a few friends and family over and I'd consider it a roaring success. Except the year we decided to have Violet's party at a local park. And I forgot to include that little detail on three or four invitations. So they showed up at an empty house.
I attempted, at numerous times, to organize my depression away. I was convinced that if I had a super organized house than I'd have more energy - and 'energy' was all I needed, I kept telling myself. So periodcially I'd clean out closets and rooms. And give all the 'junk' to GoodWill or day cares. I gave away important items such as: sheets we were currently using. (And searched for them for an entire day once the depression lifted. Then I remembered, vaguley what I had done with them.) Coffee grinders, all the Harry Potter books, children's puzzels that just needed to be organized - for real- in order for the kids to use them. Toys and stuffed animals/dolls that were gifts from special people in our lives.
I don't know that I could have been stopped. I was actively trying to heal myself and I thought these things would help. They didn't. And now I grieve some of those lost items. It's also embarassing when somebody says, "Where is that ____ I gave Sarah?" and I have to explain, again, what happened. I see the sadness in their eyes, and I'm not going lie, sometimes annoyance with me.
And I can't blame them.
But as I keep telling myself, everytime I say, "Where in the world is that ___?" And realize I gave it away, that it's all part of the healing process.
(Comments are now working! Blog is back up!!)