One of those days...

There are always those kinds of days. You may know the kind: the kind where nothing seems to go right; where your tiredness goes beyond weariness or even exhaustion; where your will seems to have been replaced with a need for silence, solitude or just doing nothing at all.

Today is one of those days. If I didn't have to, I wouldn't have gotten out of bed,  taken a shower or gotten dressed. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have left the house this morning.  If I was able to allow myself, I'd have spent a great deal of the day in tears. If there's one thing I'm thankful for today, it's that snow has cancelled activities this evening, so I'm not required to leave the house again until the morning.

This has nothing to do with psoriatic arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, chronic pain, or celiac disease. It has everything to do with depression and anxiety. It has to do with there being absolutely no palpable reason for me to feel this way, other than brain chemistry gone awry.

Depression consumes my energy, my patience, my thoughts, my movements. Anxiety impedes forward motion, weighs my body down, stifles my breath.

Because of the medicine I take to slow my own body's attack on my joints, I cannot take any medication to combat my depression and anxiety. The decision for physical health needs to come first. Most days this is ok. Today, it's not.

On days like to day, I want to say
Go away.
Leave me alone.
I can't.

Instead I say
Come here.
Let's cuddle.
I'll do my best.
Let's go.

And you know what? It gets better. Ranhygahoots don't allow for quiet and solitude. They do, however love to cuddle and read and watch movies and tell stories and sing songs. They pull me out of bed, out of my thoughts, and out of my mood, if even for a moment. They look to the skies and see the possibilities, pulling me from the dark recesses of my mind toward the stars. Where I see just another day, another hour, another moment to survive through, they see adventure and possibility.  
Some rannygahoots - the littlest ones - curl up with me and help me cry. They see the value in tears and know it's ok to be sad and not know why.


  1. That bites. :\ I've been taking Pristiq with my Humira, and before that with my Enbrel and MTX with no problems. You sure you can't take it?


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