I should be getting ready for church right now. But I’m not. I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to get out of it. I’m supposed to be in choir. I’m supposed to be going to this breakfast there this morning.
But I don’t want to. Why not?
Because I’m depressed and don’t want to have to pretend I’m OK this morning. Because I want to crawl into a hole and hide. I want to sit and feel sorry for myself and work on my blanket. (And wanting to work on my blanket is probably the only positive thing I’ve got going for me right now).
Really, I don’t want to go to this breakfast. I hate going to “breakfasts” “lunches” and “dinners” with people I barely know. I hate small talk and talking about my job. And someone inevitably comments on my eating habits and my weight. Why do old people insist on doing that and think its OK? It’s not. I don’t care how much of a compliment you think it is. It’s not OK.
But I’ll go, because I said I’ll be there. My therapist has been trying to get me to go out and do things. This qualifies as a “thing” and she made me promise that the next time someone asked me to do something to say yes no matter what (unless its something like robbing a bank, obviously). I need to get over my 1001 excuses, suck it up, and just go.