Lazy.

Eh, I'm done number days.  It's too much work.  And guess what, I'm lazy.  :-)

It never ceases to amaze me how my therapist can say something to me and it'll resonate weeks or months later.  At my very first individual counseling session, she asked me to list the things that I didn't like about myself.  My list for the most part centered around my being lazy.  At that point she stopped me.   "Have you ever considered that what you describe as being 'lazy,' is actually a symptom of being depressed?" she asked me.  No, the thought had honestly never crossed my mind.  In fact, I had always thought that was pretty much a cop out.  You see, I was raised in a home where my mother shifted the blame of anything not right in her life on to someone or something else.  She was the child of an alcoholic...money problems due to the divorce...weight issues due to quitting smoking...always tired due to medical issues...  Okay, but at some point you have to take a little ownership.  Okay, so quitting smoking will make you gain weight, I am not arguing this.  When you quit 15 years ago and you're standing at the kitchen counter eating an entire jar of jelly by the spoonful, it might be time to consider that your eating habits are also playing a role in your weight issue.  Maybe?  No you're right, it's probably the smoking thing.

I told my therapist that I'm willing to entertain the option that my 'laziness' is actually depression, but I refuse to use it as a crutch.  I refuse to place the blame on other things and continue to go about my lazy way.  She said that made sense.  Then we started talking about my mother and I felt like the cliche client in therapy.  My therapist was trying to get at some of damage that my parents did to me growing up.

Then, weeks later, I was dumbstruck by a comment my dad made.  We were talking about my 1 y/o niece not walking and my brother commented that she was lazy.  My dad exclaimed "Oh no, [ME] was the laziest baby!  She never even crawled, she just rolled everywhere!"  This is a comment that I've probably heard 1000x's before.  It's actually the running family joke about how lazy I was - between never crawling as a baby, to feigning injuries to not play T-ball as a child, to never playing sports in high school - there is never any question about my laziness.  But suddenly, my conversation with my therapist pops into my head.  Well, no wonder I have anxiety with being lazy!  I've been told in no uncertain terms that I was lazy since I was a baby!!  Who does that??  Oh right, my family.  How is that okay?  Why is that hysterical??  No wonder I have issues!

Now, was I strong enough to bring this fact to everyone's' attention at that point?  No, not yet.  But, I think recognizing how I am being mistreated is probably a good first step.  I will say, as I am gaining tools to combat my depression, I feel my energy coming back somewhat.  I do have some VERY productive days.  However, I still have plenty of low energy days.  And occasionally I do let myself curl up on the couch, under the safety and protection of a warm blanket, without (too much) mental criticism.