Last night on Facebook a friend posted a GIF of a woman pouring a huge glass of whiskey in lament that Monday was soon upon her. I was entertained at first but then my heart sank. Seeing that Jack Daniels so liberally served to drown her distress hit a nerve. I know it was supposed to be taken lightly but I couldn’t help having flashbacks of my own evenings with Mr. Daniels – numbing myself for whatever difficult thing that was looming ahead.
There’s always a lot of complaining on Sunday night that the week begins again the next day. I try not to think about it too much because I don’t want to be pessimistic but this morning when I woke up I remembered that it was Monday and I felt dread. Monday: the day I don’t have my husband’s help and I’m alone. And then Tuesday: the day I don’t have my husband’s help and I’m alone . . . and on and on it goes. It is taking me all day to reorient to the coming week, to the different rhythm and responsibility load of weekdays.
My struggles with derealization and anxiety seem to spike on Mondays. Perhaps because it’s a little like plunging into cold water – there’s such a difference between Sunday and Monday. There is a shock to Monday in the realization that there is the day ahead and four more days like it coming up. Days where everything seems constant after two days of longer periods of alone time (usually in my garden) and getting lots of help with the kids. The difference can be disorienting.
The trouble with depression, anxiety, and derealization is that seemingly “normal” things can be crushing: they descend swiftly and without notice. Before I even got out of bed I had to fight numbness. All morning I kept rehearsing the day in my head, what was coming next and what needed to be done. Derealization causes me to forget things. I have to rehearse the most basic things over and over again so that I can keep going throughout the day. Things like what appointments we have that day (not really hard – it’s the same every week) and what tasks I am doing and what the kids need next. The scarier thing, though, is that on days like this I have to call back to mind things that people normally don’t forget. Things like what my children look like, what their voices sound like, what my husband looks and sounds like, even the fact that I’m married, where I live, what car I’m driving today (even though we only have one car having lost the other through an accident). It sounds crazy. It makes me feel crazy.
I don’t need the Jack Daniels – derealization steps in and does the job for me. It tries to help me handle Mondays better but the reality is that it doesn’t help at all, it makes things 1000 times more difficult.
I don’t have an answer as to how to make it better. No words of wisdom. Thinking about how to “solve” it won’t solve anything. I’m just trying to be patient and stay hopeful.