Funkytown

It occurred to me this week that I’ve been in a depressive funk lately. When I sat down and calculated just how long I’ve been saying to myself that I’m just PMSing, it turned out to be several weeks.

I brought this up with Bryan yesterday over morning coffee, and we talked about how much things have changed in this area.

I told him how the realization I’m in a funk didn’t cause me to panic or sink deeper into my hole. In fact, I think I subconsciously saw it coming, because in looking back I noticed how I’d changed my schedule around and lowered my expectations of myself, without even realizing what I was doing. I was sluffing off all the extra curricular stuff of my life, and saving all my energy just to get the basics done.

Having just gone white water rafting, I was provided with the best visual of how I’m seeing things. As we spent the day on the river, there were many areas of calm water that were almost like a lake. Sometimes we would even jump in and swim. Then as we approached a rapid, we would tighten up a bit on our life jackets, adjust our hats, and wedge our feet into the raft for a better grip.

We could see the rapid coming, and we prepared for it.

Then, after the rush of adrenaline and the squealing and the tossing about, we came out safely on the other side and gave each other paddle high fives as we entered the calm water once again.

It’s no fun to be in the funk I’m in – I struggle with all sorts of issues regarding what a failure I must be for my inability to get the most simple and mundane things done. A clog in my vacuum renders me powerless, for instance – I just don’t have the mental capacity to figure it out.

But knowing this is not likely a permanent state, that I’m just riding the next rapid and will soon come out into the calm waters, this is what keeps me going. If I can just wedge my feet into the boat and paddle like a muthafucka, I think I’ll be okay.