That’s how long I stayed out of the house today.
It might not look much, but considering the previous two days I’d got no further than the letterbox, I think it’s something I can be proud of.
That damned cocktail of depression and anxiety is a killer: first up you have to summon the energy, the motivation to leave the ‘nest’; then you have to conjure up the courage to do so.
Still – I did it! And as a result I have a new pair of slippers, new library books (including a new release from my favourite author which I didn’t even know had come out yet), and a bag of medications from the pharmacy ($85.92, but who’s counting?). The slippers were a treat, but I was getting sick and tired of wandering around the place in thick socks, especially as last night I could only find one of the special, super-colourful knitted ones my sister gave me.
210 minutes. It’s not all that long, is it? To think that less than six months ago I was working 13 hour days. All the same, I was literally a different person back then – my health was in a completely different zone, my anxiety was lower, my depression under control.
210 minutes. It’s not really very short, if you think about it: I heard on the radio that 5000 students and staff were evacuated from UTS in Sydney just this morning amid fears of an explosion. The longest any of them were probably expecting to stay in a room non-stop, say for an extended prac or seminar, would have been three hours, or 180 minutes. So I was outside for longer than it takes to do something worthwhile.
210 minutes. And – guess what? Despite bushfires to the north, rain this morning and gale force winds predicted for this afternoon, this is what I saw:
A brief patch of blue sky.
I guess you could say that was symbolic.