25th September 2008

He asked me why I find it so difficult to do the things that need doing in the house. I sat and listened. Agreed with what he said. It has to change, he works very hard, it’s my job not his.

I know these things. I know all these things. Yet, why do I find it so difficult? It’s like a part of my brain is missing. No, not missing but it’s gone on a leave of absence. Normal together me will walk passed a mess and clean it up, sort it out, put it away. The other me will walk round it. Sometimes I’ll look at it and sigh, maybe I’ll do it later. Sometimes I won’t even look at it, as if my sub-conscious doesn’t want me to acknowledge it.

So what’s the answer? Do I need therapy? Counselling? Hypnotherapy for lazy ass people? Where does this affliction come from? I know it’s routed in depression, post-natal or not, depression rips you apart and steals parts of you that you didn’t know you needed. Like the ability to get up and do the washing up. This will sound stupid to those out there who have never felt this way. It’s different from laziness. It’s an actual physical in-ability to do things. No matter how many times I wander into the kitchen, it takes me four hours to actually begin to un-stack and re-stack the dishwasher. Try explaining that to a non-depressive believing husband.

The trouble is he’s not built this way. He’s wired differently. His genes are ‘doing’ genes, his mother never behaved like this. But mine did. For years. And now I do. And no matter how hard I fight it I see the parallels starting to appear.

So how to avert catastrophe? What plan can I implement to stop this inability to get my ass in gear? Answers on a post-card...