It’s not like I haven’t thought about writing in the last two weeks. I’ve actually wanted to write here more than that one post. But I just couldn’t.
Last month I wrote about the latest disability insurance bullshit. After that delay, I got a bit depressed. I wasn’t thrilled about the depression, but I also wasn’t worried. I’ve experienced it before. It wasn’t too bad, and I knew it would go away once the insurance stuff got settled.

Then last week I found out about a new delay. Now it looks like I should have an answer in April. Maybe. I had just gotten the notice from my landlord saying that I had to either renew my lease or give them notice. I had just gone to the bank to change my accounts, because I can no longer meet the minimum. All sorts of other things depend on this insurance decision. And it was delayed. Again. Still. More.
I was really depressed after that. I cancelled plans that I had been looking forward to for a long time, and I sat home alone in my apartment. I had no desire to go outside. I didn’t want to do anything. I dreaded seeing my friend the next day. She didn’t know the whole story. I didn’t want to explain it. I couldn’t explain it. But I also couldn’t have a happy, cheerful, pleasant visit.
Then I thought more about the way the insurance assholes are treating me like shit. They’re acting like I’m not a real person. They’re taking away from my focus on my health (ironically!) My health has suffered because of the stress of this. I was just starting to make real progress, and this bullshit has led to a backslide.
And I suddenly knew I needed to cry. I had to get it all out. I called the one person I really wanted to talk to: Mom.
I got her on her cell phone. She was on her way to a nice dinner party, so I tried to tell her we could talk later, but she heard it in my voice. She insisted we talk. What a mom! I sobbed on the phone to her for a long time. Yes, these were full-out sobs. I told her my frustrations, my anger, my fears. She listened and somehow she said all the right things. She supported me.
After that call I felt much better. It was the first time I’d cried about this insurance crap, and I really needed it. I was exhausted, but I felt lighter. I spent the night relaxing, and I chose a light-hearted, fun movie to watch before crashing early. The cry had really worn me out. The next day, I cancelled the long-awaited plans with my friend, and instead spent the day with my mom. The sun was out for a change, and we took a long (well, long for me) walk in a park I’d never been to. Fresh air, sunshine, trees, a pond, and dogs really cheered me up. Best of all, my mom is my best friend, and it was great to talk to her. Back at her place, we talked a lot. I helped her clean out her desk, which made her thrilled and made me feel useful and productive for a change. We had dinner with my dad, and then the three of us sat around talking about all sorts of things that had nothing to do with my health or with insurance. Like “normal” people. It was relaxing and lovely. I left their house feeling like I could handle things again.
I won’t say that my depression is gone, but it’s a hell of a lot better than it was a few days ago. Sometimes all it takes is a good, cathartic cry. And mom.
Posted by chronicrants
snow isn’t enough to require shoveling.) What I do mind is the lack of sun. Even on the days without precipitation, there’s no sun! A few times I’ve woken up to see some blue sky out my window, but I can only see a sliver from my bed, by the time I get up an hour later, it’s gone. A day or two ago (I really can’t tell the days anymore) I saw some blue sky. It was so exciting! I had thought about taking a walk, and that gave me the push I needed. I walked a few blocks and back, then found a place to sit. It was too cold to sit still, but I did it anyway for as long as I could because there was blue sky! It really helped. Unfortunately, the sun was behind the clouds and sunset came less than an hour later. And that was the last time I saw blue sky.
that I realized it was a seasonal thing. And the first time I heard of seasonal affective disorder (SAD), it just clicked. I suddenly knew why I became grumpy every October, and bitchy by November. And those manic days at the start of spring made sense too.
