WARNING: Our funny little blog gets deep and personal.
Have you ever seen those ads on TV asking things like, "Where does depression hurt, who does depression hurt? Well depression hurts the Missaroo.
Although I've never been diagnosed with having depression, WedMD seems to agree with my gut. It told me I should talk to my doctor. Well I don't have one of those, just a gyno. I already visit her every 6 months, and that's already 6 months too soon in my book. I think my depression comes and goes, but recently I haven't been able to shake it. I've been wearing the same WSU sweatshirt everyday for the last three months if that tells you anything. Now, I'm not suicidal so nobody panic, just sad, all the time. And it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to be in my own head, it hurts to walk into work every weekday, it hurts to do anything other than pet the Missaroo.
Today is a prime example. It actually started last night when I burst into tears and decided sleep at 9:30 was the only cure. Missy wasn't happy about that decision but faithfully followed me into bed anyway. Then today I got up pretty early, but that's about it. I got up. That's my accomplishment for the day. I look at the poor Missaroo wanting so desperately to go for a walk but even the thought of putting my shoes on hurts, and I mean real, physical pain. Like an ache. She doesn't deserve this and I know that. She deserves a happy energetic dog mom. This is truly my biggest dog mom fail. But I just can't do it, and lately I've been having more bad days than good.
The fact that this state of being is hurting my dog only makes it worse. I feel like I can't do anything right. I fail as a woman because I'm not "girlfriend material." I fail as a dog mom because I'm so depressed I can't even take the Missaroo for a walk. Those are some pretty important things in my life to fail at. Even as I write this, Missaroo is wining at me and I'm crying. If she were my child protective services would probably be at my door. She still is getting her potty breaks and food and love. I would never just stop taking care of her. But I wish I could shake this fail feeling, if not for myself but for the sake of the Missaroo. My depression is hurting her too.