Not Monstrous, Mental

I am enjoying a little ten-fingered typing to make my Wuss-out Wednesday post early on Thursday morning (not really too early; I’ve been awake almost two hours). I was too depressed to make a post last night. I hesitated for a long time (the almost two hours I’ve been up, plus a few wakeful hours in the night) before making yet another post about my depression, but at last the desire to be a daily blogger overcame my reluctance.

One big reason I hesitate to blog about my depression is that my mother reads my blog. I don’t like her to worry about me. In general (all these blog posts notwithstanding), I do not like to talk about my depression to all and sundry. Of course I do, more than I should, because I am quite the garrulous sort in addition to being pretty much All About Me. But I realize it is the wrong thing to do. For one reason, it is tiresome, and I prefer to be amusing. For another, it does not always help. Sometimes it is better to seek out professional help.

Which brings me to where I am at this morning. I feel it would be a good idea for me to reach out for help. Only I do not know where to go. I know there are 800 numbers I can call, but I prefer face to face counseling. I don’t like to talk on the phone much. However, in these COVID times, phone counseling may be all that is available. Another consideration is that my health benefits from my job are just now kicking in. I do not know what, if anything, they cover mental health-wise. I guess these are all problems that have an answer, if only I bestir myself to seek it.

And that brings me back to overcoming my reluctance to blog more about my depression. I thought to myself, perhaps I can share my journey back to mental health. Would that be too tiresome and All About Me? As I type this, I feel reluctance to hit Publish. Am I selling my psyche for a blog post? It could be. On the other hand, I am over 350 words. That is pretty good for a Wuss-out Wednesday, I think.