Monday, September 9, 2013

I didn't want to go to yoga, but I'm glad I did

I had the day off, and I had a delicious, lazy day. But too much of that, even when it is feeling good initially, will eventually pull me down. And by evening, I really didn't want to go to my yoga class. I made myself go, and I am glad I did. My body feels really good after the class, and I feel better.

Yoga or exercise or so many other things require that you commit to them over and over again. Whenever I manage to clean the kitchen, I somehow think it should stay clean. I keep thinking I shouldn't have to clean it again so soon. I'm not very good at housekeeping- or at least not yet. I am getting better at it, just as I am getting better at getting myself to get to yoga. I really should hire someone- but that would be admitting defeat. (not to mention the expense).

It is never really finished. You are never done, until you are dead and buried. I will always have to push. When the depression is really bad, it can seem impossible (and pointless), to even try. But even when the depression is pretty much at bay, I still have to push. It's just that the pushing is a lot easier. I remember during past past couple of years that I had reach a point at which I didn't think I would kill myself for while- I had just had a new niece born, didn't want that to burden her. But I wished that I was dying. I couldn't wait to get old, for life be done. I wanted to be able to stop trying, I was so tired of trying.

I don't think that very often any more anymore.

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