Messy

Gun’s Quote-of-the-Week:

“A messy desk offers this advantage: it offers unexpected discoveries every day.”

-LLIC 2006

In the summer of 2013, I was officially diagnosed with Depression and General Anxiety Disorder. I started a year-long treatment program which included counseling, diet, exercise and medication. It actually took a little longer than a year, but it is finally under control. Finally.

Most people think that Depression makes you sad. While some of that is true, it mostly makes you unable to function. You don't open your mail because you're afraid of the $30 co-pay you owe to the eye doctor. You tremble in fear at work because you think everything you do will get you fired. You only see what you did wrong so you don't try to do anything because you don't think you can do anything right. So you just do nothing.

Today, I had the very difficult task of starting to go through my desk at home.

The desk contained mail, tax forms, receipts, bank statements, 401k statements, manuals, warranty registration cards, insurance, medical, etc. They are forms and correspondence that I simply stashed because I was so overwhelmed by them. It also included wedding invitations, Christmas cards and even magazines and newspapers. Some are over two years old. Never opened.

Today was going to be tough because I knew what I would find. There would be the couple who have already celebrated an anniversary (or two!) that never got my RSVP, let alone a gift. Bills that would be well beyond late. I already found a “We’re turning you over to collections” letter. I didn’t pay taxes to the State of Kansas last year.

Today would be tough because I knew that I would have to pick up the responsibilities that I dropped when I was ill. That’s what it is… an illness. I know enough to know now that there is something wrong with a person whenever they can’t even conjure up the energy to open an envelope. That’s a problem, folks, and one in which I’m so very grateful that I’ve solved.

That does little to stave off the emotion of disappointment, though, that I am feeling now. Make no mistake; I accept responsibility for my actions (or, better stated, lack thereof) and refuse to make an illness a scapegoat. I will make this right and will pay whatever is owed of me. That said, I accept this responsibility mostly because I refused to get help (or accept it) when I most needed it. It was easier to bury my head in the sand than to face reality. Now, I’m more committed than ever to make sure this doesn’t happen again. This week hasn’t been fun.

If refusing to do some of the simplest tasks in life, thinking everything is a crisis, making a mountain out of a molehill and not wanting to do normal, healthy, human activities sounds like you or somebody you know, call a professional doctor. If they refuse help, poke, prod and dig in. They will thank you later; I promise.

Trust me: there are much more fun things to do on your Christmas break than to go through more than a years’ worth of mail and receipts.

…and that’s why it’s a Gun’s Quote!