Week 1: restless nights.

I talked with my boyfriend about continuing our relationship, and I had a fun weekend to follow up. I was motivated to change, and monday morning I woke up bright and early to see my psychologist. They had made a plan on how to help me get back on my own two feet, they consulted me and decided my classification: Depression.

I was relieved to finally know what to call how I’ve been feeling. I had been searching for the right words for years, being careful not to “exaggerate”. They were very adamant to tell me this classification doesn’t define me, and isn’t all that I am. That a classification is given, not to put a label on someone, but to better know how to help them. We immediately made another appointment for the next week and I walked away from the appointment hopeful.

That same day my shoulder pain flared up again. My shoulder has been aching every month or so for over a year. I’ve been to a physiotherapist who connected it to stress and hyperventilation. It made sense but I couldn’t see a pattern so I called the doctors office to make an appointment, they could fit me in the next week. This pain kept nagging me throughout the week, and sometimes kept me up at night.

I spent my days in bed, watching Netflix and trying to find inspiration for my room. Constantly changing my mind, undecisive and doubting, I couldn’t get further than pinterest. I felt frustrated with myself and would watch videos to distract me. I would get even more frustrated when my parents called me out on this, ‘staying in bed all day isn’t good for your shoulder’ and ‘just go do something’. I know they are right, but it doesn’t help the situation.

I kept this up until thursday. Inspired by my best friends words last weekend: ‘The nice thing about living close to friends, is being able to text them randomly to meet.’, I texted my friends to get a drink sometime this week. I quickly got a reply, and we decided on friday evening. Friday, I was going with my dad to get all my stuff from my old room and bring them back home. This day was chaotic. I had forgotten my keys, my dad brought the wrong screwdrivers, we could barely fit all my stuff in the van and we got stuck in traffic. I was exhausted but met with my friends anyway. We had a few drinks and just talked.

My brother came on Sunday just for spending some time as a family. This day also happened to be one year since our Pixel passed away, this still hurts me. My family all got to have a “one last” everything with him, I didn’t. Having my brother around allowed me to breathe a bit. I had been feeling frustrated that week and needed someone else around, I needed the attention off me for a while. I made dinner, and even tried out a cocktail recipe I came up with a couple months ago but haven’t tried it yet. It was delicious!

I’m happy that I moved back to my parents, but I do miss living on my own sometimes. I need to find a balance between being alone all the time and being with my parents all the time. I miss travelling, I wish I could go right now, but I know that wouldn’t fix me. I am excited to start therapy, and I am curious what it will result in.