Apparently, depression doesn’t go away just because you’re distracted by other medical issues. Neither do medical equipment malfunctions, insurance issues, or the energy drain of condition management.
Luckily, throughout the cataract process, my other conditions have been stable. Mostly. Enough that I could sideline them for a month and maintain my peace of mind, anyway.
But the depression is the refrigerator hum right now, and has been, as much or more than the diabetes, since I started treating it.
There are a lot of things aside from medication that I have incorporated in order to pull myself out of where I was that will also help me take measure of where my depression stands.
Does it sound weird if I talk about my depression the same way I do my other conditions?
It feels a little weird.
But the fact of the matter is that it is like my other conditions. Just because there aren’t concrete measures like labs to track doesn’t mean there isn’t a way. As with other conditions, individual symptoms will vary, but, for me, looking at changes versus my baseline is useful in figuring out whether I am where I want to be or whether I need to continue treatment discussions.
My primary indicators are level of isolation, language (the words I use), energy levels, and the state of my apartment. That last one is the hardest because mess compounds daily with laundry, dishes, and the other detritus of life.
Knowing my tendency to use external services as crutches, I have been considering getting help with my apartment for a while, but until now, I haven’t moved past the research stage.
Even before I was depressed, I considered purging my apartment. I did it once during COVID – maybe my first attempt to subconsciously address my depression – and it made me feel better. I still don’t miss anything I got rid of.
Someone just sitting there keeping me company while I do it myself would help, I think. However, that would take forever because I procrastinate, and ‘companion while you go through every drawer and closet in your apartment’ isn’t really a service (though, maybe it should be). So, I will hire a professional organizer, who can act as prompt, motivator, and voice of reason.
She can help me accommodate my moderate sentimentality without letting me get away with taking stuff out of the donate pile and squirreling it away at the back of a cabinet. There has to be a balance between Marie Condo and total tchotchke immersion, right? Enough to feel lighter in my own space?
I hope so.
It’s not my first step – that was realization and pharmacological treatment. But it is a good step. Out of all my symptoms, addressing the mess is the one over which I have the most control and the ability to make the most concrete progress. The others are primarily subconscious or internal.
I know these things never move in straight lines. Cleaning and organizing my space won’t mean I am no longer depressed. Maybe I won’t be able to maintain it. Or maybe it will be the only change I can maintain, and the other symptoms will continue to drag at me.
Even so, it’s good to have a plan and another step to focus on.