I could not get out of bed today. I woke up under a cloud of depression. This isn’t new to me; I would say it happens a few times a month on average. I’m always amazed at how it can get to me. I think I am way too intelligent and mature to think like this, next time I’ll know this, I will have learned my lesson from the last time it happened, and I will be better. Then the next time comes and I am back in the same place.
Suffice it to say I did not want to work out when I woke up. To make matters worse it’s Andrew’s day off and the idea of lounging in bed with him sounds delicious. Andrew felt a different way: he woke up with determination. He bounded out of bed ready to head to the gym and then to come back and tackle his long to do list.
Somehow he was able to convince me to get up and go without pushing, prodding, or guilting me. He made it my choice, and was entirely supportive. He is amazing.
I’m glad I got up and exercised, and that I didn’t use my depression as an excuse to skip that or eat badly. I know it won’t always be like that, but maybe today will make the next time a little bit easier.