Depression and sense of time

Depression and sense of time


When I filed our documents last week, I noticed how much depression changed my sense of time in the last year.

I had presorted the documents in a folder, but that was all I did – I didn’t touch them again for a year (!). I wasn’t aware how many time had passed, but the facts can’t be denied. We were really lucky nothing really bad happened – it was annoying I forgot to arrange the advance payments for our income tax, but the only consequence was a late payment charge. Apart from that, all bills and direct debits were paid, and our bank accounts never were overdrawn. Sometimes my husband nudged me and told me what to do. I know people who completely lost control over these matters while they suffered from depression.

When I was really bad, every day went by in a grey haze. I have a hard time really remembering events and not just read my calendar.

Now everything is different, not always pink, but colorful at least. Nevertheless I feel like I lost a year in the fog of depression. As if there were times in which I haven’t really lived.





…is an important thing when it comes to handling the rough parts of life. Acceptance also is one of my biggest challenges. I rarely take life as it is.

During the last days I wanted to finish decluttering my clothes. As shown above, there were lots of clothes that I had to admit I will never wear again. Because a) they don’t fit anymore, or b) I won’t have an opportunity to wear them anymore. The clothes still were in good shape, so I donated them.

I had hoped for relief. Instead, I felt sadness, despair and hopelessness. I was sad, because I never will dress up in the morning and go into work. I felt despair, because I am so limited due to my physical and mental problems. I felt hopeless, because I can’t plan ahead at the moment and have to take each day as it comes.

I will have to deal with these issues in the next weeks, and hopefully finally find peace. But the most important thing: Everyday life still runs smoothly. I walk the dogs, do chores and go to my therapy sessions. This gives me a feeling of accomplishment.





…was one of those days that just become worse and worse. Everything started normally, I walked the dogs, did chores and had my single OT session. When I was on the way home, my mother-in-law texted me and sent me a picture: She is over the moon, because her grandchild spent the first night with them.

I wasn’t prepared for this, and it hit me hard. When I finally came home, I was a mess and had very dark thoughts in my head: “I am a failure, because we have no children, I just want to die”, “The pain inside me is so strong, I want to hurt myself.”

Listening to music and cleaning dishes didn’t distract me enough. Finally I took my as-needed med and went to lie on my bed. One of the dogs stayed in the bedroom with me, and the cat lay down on my tummy. My husband came home, I talked to him, prepared dinner, went to bed again, had a nap, watched TV – and I still felt bad. Took a nice warm shower before turning in for the night – didn’t help, it took me a long time to fall asleep. I didn’t dare to take more from the as-needed med, because I didn’t want to make getting up in the morning too hard.

Woke up today and didn’t feel any better, but I somehow managed not to hurt myself. Took a very long walk with our dogs and thought everything over. I knew I had to tell my mother-in-law how her message yesterday made me feel. This wasn’t about blaming her or explaining myself – I just don’t want this to happen again. So I texted her that my pain about not being a mother was triggered yesterday, and that I am still busy with finding a way to manage my new everyday life. And that her son and my new everyday life are most important to me right now, but that my days are full with that.

I don’t know what her answer will be, but I finally felt better. My therapist in the hospital told me I have to let the people around me know how they make me feel – if they don’t know, they can’t help me. I don’t like that, it makes me feel very vulnerable. On the other hand this can help me to get some of the weight of my shoulders. It seems this was what I needed today.



12 days…

12 days…

…since I have been released from the hospital. On one hand my time on the ward has become a distant memory, on the other hand everything I learned and experienced has become a part of me.

Today I had to get up early, because I was due for my quarterly blood sugar test. I came home from  the doctor’s office and decided to keep the ball rolling: Walked the dogs and did an hour of chores. After that I took a shower and cooked lunch. 

Sounds normal? Maybe, but I still remember the times I couldn’t get out of bed all day.

My inner demons anxiety, depression and pain are still there, but I handle  them differently. When they make an appearance, I greet them, we have known each other for a long time after all. I even offer them  a seat, but then I go on with whatever I have been doing. Later I  will notice that the space where they  have been sitting is empty again, my demons never say  goodbye.

This way we get along quite well.

I am aware of the fact that I am very limited in what I can do.  I was reminded very clearly of this in the first days at home, and a  few tears of frustration have been shed over it. But I try to fill this limited space as good as I can.

My mind is finally home as well

My mind is finally home as well

Even though I came home Thursday, it felt like some part of me was still missing. Somehow I still felt like I was on a visit.

Yesterday I had my first appointments. The day started quite badly, I turned the alarm clock off after the alarm and fell promptly back asleep… Our cat sleeping peacefully next to my pillow didn’t help. When I woke again, I really had to hurry.

While sitting in the bus, I suddenly felt very anxious and down. The last time I was at the podiatrist, I already was very depressed, and I know my body has its own memory. I thought, “Wow, did I really feel this bad?”

The next appointment was in the afternoon, so I drove home in between. My energy level was still good, so I squeezed in a hour of chores.

A few hours later I went to OT. Once a week they hold a group that specializes in PMR according to Jacobson. I was introduced to this in the hospital and wanted to keep it up, because it helps me a lot.

I really feel blessed when I can spend a whole hour on relaxation. My body felt like it was lying on a cloud, and my thoughts just came and went. And then suddenly there was this feeling: “Yes, I am home again!” Finally. I can’t say what brought this on. But it feels very good. Since this moment, this feeling stayed with me. I hope it’s here for good!

Meeting with the head physician

Meeting with the head physician

Today I talked to the head physician. It’s the absolute opposite from what I was used to at the other hospital. They really try to work out with the patients what to do.

We all agreed things are heading in the right direction, but that there still is lots of work to do as well.

And so the smiled at me and said: “We are not finished yet!” But this was no threat, it was a promise to help me to get even more better.

And in this moment her optimism was so contagious, I believed her that there is still room for improvement.

And it’s official: I’ll drive home at the weekend. I am very happy about that.

A quiet Saturday

A quiet Saturday

During the weekend there are no therapies, and most patients go home. So I visited my parents, who live nearby, for cake and coffee.

My mother home a wonderful Torta Della Nonna for us, and it was delicious.

But most important was that I spoke about an issue that had plagued me for years: That I feel like a failure, because there are not grandparents. They would have been wonderful grandparents.

My mother told me: “I say this from the bottom of my heart: Everything is fine.”

And she meant it. I felt so relieved. I have no idea why I didn’t bring this question up long ago. The answer would have been the same.

A huge weight was lifted off my heart.