By the way, the other day, when The Bunny was with me (and Other Chick was apparently feeling ignored)…he was helping me clean my apartment.
Things here had gotten…bad. Really bad. I felt like a loser for letting things slide so much, and blamed my clinical depression for taking away my energy and motivation. But actually when I look at my work schedule for November, I didn’t have more than one day off in a row the whole month and I had quite a few days where I posed for multiple classes, with not enough time to go home in between, so that I was out of the house for a total of 12-15 hours. Sometimes I’d have a few of that kind of day in a row. And I don’t know what the fuck “normal” is anymore but…I think maybe even someone not-depressed would be burnt out by that much work at a highly physical job?
So I’m trying not to lambaste myself anymore.
But anyway, it’s not showroom-perfect in here by any means but it’s SO. MUCH. BETTER. I’d been sleeping on the couch for the last four months or so, partly because my bedroom was almost impossible to navigate*. But I could sleep in there again now if I wanted to (I can’t easily have a laptop in the bedroom right now because reasons, and most nights I need to be falling asleep to a tv show or movie, so I’m still sleeping in the living room for now. But I could totally use a bed like a normal person!).
I love The Bunny so much for helping me. It was really hard for me to ask him (and I was only able to ask him because he’s offered in the past so I figured it wasn’t totally out of the question) but when I texted him that I really need some help digging me out from under my mess, he immediately replied “I’m free Wednesday afternoon or Saturday night.” And he showed up with garbage bags, nitrile gloves, and a game plan.
And now that there’s been headway made, I’ve been slowly improving on it even without anyone helping. I was just overwhelmed before, is all. I mean I had started compiling bags of trash and recycling on my own, but it barely seemed to make a difference and I was getting frustrated.
I can’t remember if I mentioned this but I went off my meds for a while…basically I just forgot to take them for a bunch of days in a row, and then I realized I didn’t have much of a supply left but due to my work schedule I wouldn’t be able to get more pills in time, and I kind of chose to stop taking them on purpose rather than stop because I’d run out. And then my libido that had been MIA for literally years unexpectedly came back, so I really didn’t want to take my pills because SSRIs always fuck with my orgasms and/or sex drive and I just wanted a damn window of time where my downstairs was functioning normally. Buuuuut then the libido leveled off by itself and I noticed I was seriously backsliding into unable-to-do-anything-but-the-bare-necessities mode so yeah. I’m back on them again and waiting for them to kick in.
Hopefully, I can do a major, major purge of apartment clutter during the brief time between me going back on meds and the meds inexplicably not working anymore, and then the place will be easier to maintain after that.
(Yeah, every antidepressant I’ve ever taken stops working. Honestly, at times I wish I’d never tried any at all because it seems like kind of a horrible tease to give my brain a glimpse of what neurotypical is like and then take it away again. Like, this time around I’d slid into depression so slowly that I didn’t even realize it – it had been years since I’d been on any drugs for this, and I’d forgotten what my medicated brain was like. But now the drugs have reminded me of what it’s like to have energy and motivation and decisiveness and be able to go outside without anxiety and stuff. And I know I’m inevitably going to lose that. I feel like the guy from Flowers for Algernon. Or Wile E. Coyote standing in the shadow of a falling rock with his little “help!” sign.)
Anyway. Tl;dr – I can walk from my couch to my bed without having to vault over piles of clutter now, and The Bunny is my hero.
*And partly because I’d just gotten the new kitten, whom I barricaded into the kitchen for the first week or so in order to keep her out of trouble and let Bastardcat get used to her. So I slept in the living room so I could hear her if she cried or anything. I think maybe the bedroom didn’t get impassable til later.