My house is a depression play ground. If depression was a person, my house would be Disneyland. We all live with varying degrees of depression and anxiety. The past 10 days, we have been quarantining due to 2 of the 3 of us testing positive for Covid 19.
Depression was SO happy.
This has been a breeding ground for mental illness slip n slide extravaganza.
Our days and nights are mixed up.
Our bodies are sore.
Some of our basic senses are literally gone.
We have left the house 1 time in 10 days and that was to have our nosed swabbed, in the car, and then right back home.
Screen time all the time.
And now it's January 1 which is traditionally a day of "I'm going to fix myself and everything around me." I've thrown 1 load of laundry in, picked up the living room and now?
I AM EXHAUSTED.
I've literally been out of bed for 30 minutes and I'm done for the day.
Depression is not winning, but I'm certainly not the lioness Superwoman that is going to fix all the world's problems and heal the hearts and minds of all those residing in my home today either.
Ugh pray for me.
