Lately, life has very much been about survival. I have been waking up when my toddler daughter wakes up, so I have to hit the ground running the marathon that is a day of parenthood without a blink of time for myself. It is not a good thing. Hence I decided to do my best to wake up early every day, so I feel like I've accomplished something other than changing diapers, fixing breakfast and cleaning by mid morning.
I was surprised how easy the running went yesterday, though I think it went so smoothly because my body was completely caught off guard. When I was in the Army, I ran at least three days of the week, though I was not good at it and certainly did not like it. Since I became a civilian, I've run only over the course of a couple of weeks for an experiment comparing the elevation in heart rate resulting from vigorous aerobic exercise and that resulting from moderate aerobic exercise. Again, I was not a fan. Honestly, the only reason I'm running now is for these mythical feel-good endorphins I keep reading about. Basically, I'm trying to make depression my bitch.
For large swaths of my life, I've suffered from varying levels of depression. When I was 18, I was suicidal and diagnosed with clinical depression and had to go on Prozac for six months. The medication certainly helped, and since then I've had fewer problems, and nothing that time and prayer couldn't handle. I have worked hard to maintain a sunny disposition and stay optimistic despite whatever reality came my way. Since my miscarriage a few months ago, though, I've been wandering in a persistent fog of depression. I have been fatigued more than I ever have in my life, and I routinely cry for "no reason" at all. I remember sinking down, down, down to the point where I wanted to take my own life when I was younger; and I have no interest in going there again. I have a husband and daughter counting on me, and I CANNOT let that happen... never mind that it just generally sucks. I admitted to my husband that I was not well at all, which he certainly knew, and that I had to do something or things could get worse, which he did not know. Exercise is my last-ditch effort to avoid falling further into the deep pit of depression and to avoid prescription anti-depressants.
OK, so the feel-good endorphins are not mythical. I understand I'm only two days in, and really anything can happen that can screw up my progress; but I am finding my mood to be better. The urge to cry did crop up a couple of times yesterday, but I muddled through; and overall I had a good day. I had more energy to attend to whatever needed my attention. A real perk that I found yesterday and today is a lack of nervous energy, which I customarily have in abundance... the kind of energy that makes me feel like a lab rat in a maze, darting around in no particular direction. So that was gone yesterday and hasn't reappeared today. Perhaps, I can learn what this word "relax" really means.
^^^^^^^^^^^
In breaking free,
We are able to take hold
When our hands are empty,
We may use them to glorify what is Holy
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