Sunday was not a fun day

Cute title right? I know. However it’s also very true. Nick and I have decided that every weekend we will go to a park for at the very least a light stroll and maybe lunch; just to get out of the house really. This past weekend our park day coincided with the day we had agreed to go for a run, so of course that meant we would do our run at a park. I chose Richmond because I know it well and predictability helps me handle my anxiety. Did I mention my depression had kicked in the day before? That meant my brain was being mean and I didn’t want to leave the house and I especially didn’t want to go running. But I’m on a mission to not allow my depression and anxiety to make the rules so we went anyway. I wasn’t off to a good start, we were running later than we had planned, I kept losing things, I realised all of a sudden while putting my hair up that my neck is at a weird angle and had to show Nick, then I was hungry, then I wanted coffee, and by the time we finally got into the car and were halfway down our street I remembered I hadn’t taken my meds and should probably bring them. Also where were they? It might help you to see where this is headed if I explain my anxiety. (At least that’s the name the doctors in the US gave the crazy that happens in my head.) It is commonly triggered by what I like to call “the lots of stuff”. It’s when there’s too much going on, piling up quickly, and then there’s just one thing too much and it all comes falling down around me. I end up frozen in place and crying. Mostly because what I really want to do is run around screaming and flailing but am very aware of what that would look like to anyone else. So the screaming happens in my head and I just wait until it stops. And the one thing that sets this reaction off, without fail, is wind. I don’t know why. I love the wind. But it feels chaotic and uncontrollable. It makes my hair do things I don’t want it to and blows dirt in my eye. So there I am trying to fight my depression by going into nature and exercising for those lovely hormones that are supposed to make me feel happy again and our 5 minute warm up is over and it’s time for our first run and BAM! My coat is touching my face, something’s in my eye, my feet keep slipping in the mud, the wind is loud, my glasses keep slipping down, my neck is cold, my glove is loose, my headphones are falling off,y hair is touching my face on the other side, and seriously why is there so much wind!? In an instant I had to stop, turn away from the very many people out for a walk on this beautiful day, cover my ears, and then I began to cry. Why did this have to be my life? I just want to go for a run by the lake with my husband. Oh my poor husband who is so quickly by my side telling me we can go back to the car. We don’t have to do this. He knows what’s happening and he even knows it’s the wind that set it off. He’s gone through this with me so many times. And he is so loving and patient. But I’m not. Not to myself. I curse and ask why me and tell him no. No we will not leave. I want to run in the park. I will not let this be my life. I will not let some stupid chemical imbalance win. So I put my headphones back on, press play, and we run. And I cry. Luckily Nick is smart and he takes us to a less windy area nearer to the tree line (my wonderful Boy Scout) and as the wind calms down I do too. Eventually we were talking and laughing and had a very enjoyable run. But those attacks, whatever they are, are exhausting and leave me wanting to apologise a million times to him for being a crazy person. Of course he doesn’t see me that way. But I tell him that’s because love is blind.

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