Some Friday evenings, an insidious sense of hopelessness invades my brain. I fail to feel relief and happiness over the prospect of the coming week-end. Instead, all of the things I didn’t achieve the past week come slapping me in the face. I didn’t write enough, wasn’t a dedicated enough teacher to my students, didn’t go jogging 3 times, missed yoga and ate too much chocolate.
As soon as I arrive back home, the worst part of me emerges- I become depressed, tired and envious. I can’t find the energy to do anything and ultimately feel guilty for being tired. I just don’t know what to do with my time so I scroll the internet in a state of boredom bordering stupidity. I look up successful blogs and photos of beautiful people on Facebook and feel inferior even though I’m usually pretty satisfied with my life.
Then I decide I’m hungry and need half a baguette covered in Nutella to survive. On bad Fridays, I ended up crying, waiting for Nick to come home, hoping he’d have a way to help me out of my sorry state. Last time, he forced me to go on a walk with him and it helped. It’s usually good to have someone around but it’s not enough. As the brilliant French TV-show Bref puts it, life is like an elevator. When all goes well, the elevator goes up. When all goes wrong, it goes down. Depression is when you’re stuck in the basement. And when you try to call the repairman, you realise that the repairman, it’s you. In other words, to get out of my Friday evening depression, I’m the only one who can decide to get over myself.
Sometimes, the hopelessness pushes me to write because I know it’s the only thing that’ll give me this sense of accomplishment I failed to gain during the week. Those writing sessions usually result in depressing posts about dead people or bad moods. They make me feel much better though.
When I don’t find my way out of the heavy cloud, I just try not to push my head deeper in the water with guilty thoughts like: “Why are you depressed? You’ve got no reason to be! You’ll never be happy if you can’t kick yourself out of it!” It’s generally good to try and be happy but there’s no point in fighting temporary gloom every time it comes for a visit. It’s okay to feel blue every once in a while. I believe everybody does.
The best way I found to deal with it is to just allow myself to feel down. I just accept it, turn on the TV, eat comfort food, and cry if need-be. Eventually, a catchy song plays on the radio and before I know it, I’m singing to it. I’m fine, and the nagging feeling is gone.
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