This is my first time writing a blog. I’m nervous because I don’t think I will be able to write something that meets everyone’s expectations. I worry that I will fail to be good enough. That’s what I do all the time. After 60 years of thinking that way, it’s pretty hard wired.  Many years of therapy for my depression and anxiety have taught me that trying to meet my own expectations is what matters. And most important is that I do not set unreasonable standards for myself. 

Lately though, it seems like I can’t meet any expectations.  I feel so tired every day. It’s discouraging and I spend my time trying to figure out why I have so little energy. I’m not young anymore, and my mental and physical health have taken a toll. Perhaps my best years are all behind me now. How bleak is that?

It’s likely that depression and diabetes are contributing to my fatigue. And I’ve come through the year 2020. The pandemic increased my social isolation to the extreme. I spent most of the year nauseated due to medication side effects (which I finally identified and no longer take). There were terrifying wildfires around us. The political atmosphere was like a pressure cooker. And to wrap it all up, my 30 year marriage is over. These are all highly stressful situations on their own. Combined, they add up to a good explanation for increased anxiety and stress. 

The past year was an energy drain, and my expectations were that I would need some time to heal and recover. But months have passed, and I am still tired, unmotivated and feeling defeated.  I’m disappointed in myself. 

Depression is a heavy blanket that smothers hope. In spite of that, I still crawl out from under that blanket every morning with hope that each day may bring change.

Doubtful Soul

A Moodscope member.