The Comforting Side of Depression

There is something wonderful at first to lie in bed unable to move out of it except to go to the toilet. I lie in my full sized bed, surrounded by warm flannel sheets, my stuffed animals, and my cat. I have the radio on a talk radio station, lately, I have become addicted to NJ 101.5. I have my books in bed with me. It's comfortable , it's safe and I can cocoon in there and feel safe and happy.

Until I realize I've just spent a whole day in bed. One of the deadly sins, no? Sloth? Nah, cannot be, I got my teddy here and I feel safe....I will get up tomorrow. And then tomorrow comes and it's another day.. and I cannot get out of bed. And thus a vicious cycle starts.

For me, sometime bed keeps me safe and more important, alive. When I start to slip, I no longer can do the simple things one needs to do to daily. Brush hair and teeth. Change clothes. Take a shower. I get in my head, and I realize even with my skills I have from working on the hotline, and CBT and other therapies, my head is not a good place to be.

That is where I am now. Too much in my head, too much longing to stay in bed where I am safe and no harm will come to me. Surrounded by my stuffed toys, some paperbacks, the radio on the night table, and my cat, leaning up against my side, purring softly as she dreams, no doubt, of the first robin of the Spring she saw yesterday and imagines it is between her paws about to become dinner. But I am safe.

And in the end , it's all about staying safe, to me. I am too depressed to do too much else, so it's hit the send key and go back to bed. It's four am. Maybe some more sleep, and I will feel better. But if I don't and cannot function today, at least I have a lovely place to read and be in. As long as it's not in my head.