How I Resist
Musings from a Monday morning
I woke up this morning with a feeling in my belly of dread. It’s not unfamiliar. In fact, I would say it’s weird on days when I wake up feeling happy go lucky. Today was normal. Dread, a bit of sadness; a regular dose of melancholy for someone with chronic depression. The last few days have been good, it was the weekend afterall. We spent all day Saturday out in the yard, soaking in the lack of rain while we could. We added new soil to the raspberries, nesting black mulch on top of it. We cleaned out our external garage, a 625 sq ft structure smack dab in the middle of the back yard.
We dream of turning that space into a creative blank slate with a bathroom and a bedroom and windows galore. We got a quote recently from a plumber saying it would cost around 40k to add plumbing and sewage. So now we are rethinking our plans.
There was an old workbench in the shop, as we call it, that was built in the 90s. We tore it down and then did a junk haul with our neighbor Mike. He has lived across the street for over 30 years, well before we ever got here. Since we bought the house in 2022 he has been a solid presence in our life. He knows how to do everything you could possibly need to know how to do as a home owner. He built us a new fence. Helped us renovate our attached garage. And he has a truck. So we have done many a junk hauls with him. We always joke that if there is a zombie apolocypse or war, that we would go to Mikes house and he would protect us.
After we hauled off old cabinets and all the other junk we have just thrown behind the shop, we spent the rest of the day burning scrap wood in our fire pit. Like many neurodivergents, maybe, I absolutely love burning shit. At one point Richard went to go pick up sandwiches for us from our favorite place, Tubs Subs, and I almost fucked everything. I had large pieces of wood drying out next to the firepit while we burned small pieces, and at one point there was a large gust of wind and all the large pieces caught fire. A few of them I threw into hte firepit but they were too large. So when Richard returned, there I was standing near a large blaze in and out of the firepit. Apparently that is not kosher and can lead to house fires. “That’s how accidents happen,” Richard said, shaking his head, with a familiar look of disappointment on his face.
Earlier in the week I had gotten a flat tire while driving because I saw a cementary with a bunch of Jewish stars and got distracted and hit the curb. Luckily I was next to a home depot and pulled in and tried to fix it myself. But I couldn’t get the bolts off the rim to even get the tire off and Richard was at work. So I called Mike. 20 minutes later he pulled into the lot with his dad Maurie and brother Greg. They all decided it was time for a field trip.
So, I got a lesson on changing a flat tire and then continued with my errands. Fast forward to almost burning down the house and Richard was at the end of his rope. I caused him agita when I didn’t take my ADHD meds. So, I called my doctor and got a new prescription. I hadn’t been taking it in the last few months because I felt like I could focus on work okay without it, but I didn’t take into consideration that maybe it was helpful for things besides just work. Like driving and paying attention to large flames. So, I refilled the prescription. But turns out that my insurance expired in February and I never got a notice. So I had to pay $100 out of pocket. Add that to the list of things I am mad about.
On Sunday, yesterday, I declared bright and early that I wanted to do absolutely nothing all day. So, that’s what I did. I wandered around the house like the cats, sleeping wherever they slept. I watched a little too much TV I think in hindsight. We binged Deal or No Deal Island all of last week and had nothing new except White Lotus and this new show on Netflix called The Residence.
Anyways. Now it’s Monday and I woke up with the familiar feeling of dread in my stomach. But I know myself and know that the only way forward was to fake it. So I sat on the couch drinking my coffee, scrolling Substack, before closing my eyes. I put my hand on my chest and simply noticed what was there. Dread. Sadness. “What is the point?” came up at one point. Valid, I said to myself. So valid. There is a lot of bad things happening in the world. So, I sat with my hand on my heart and breathed deeply, knowing the only true remedy to my malaise was witnessing it. After I felt a slight release of tension, I decided I needed to move to step two: getting dressed.
So, that’s what I did. And because I am brave and strong and capable of anything, I took it one step further and got in the car and drove to the library, where I now sit typing away.
I still feel sad, but at least I am out of my pajamas and the house. If you have gotten to the end of this, here are a few other things I am planning on doing today to resist fascism and depression.
Get dressed. Something comfortable, ideally workout clothes so that nothing is in the way of actually going to the gym.
Talk to a person. I have become library friends with a man named Calvin who comes here as frequently as I do. He is unemployed because he has to spend his time taking care of his sick mom. I catch up with him before I start to work,.
Practice self-care. And no, I don’t mean self-care that costs money. I mean the deep seeded care you can give yourself when you are feeling anything. Take a bath, or fuck it, even a sitting shower. Put 16 different face lotions on just to feel your face and remind yourself that you are alive.
Eat a nourishing meal. You can’t fight the patriarchy on an empty stomach.
Spend money locally. I am personally boycotting a whole bunch of places. Read the full list here.
That’s all I got for today. Thanks for being here.