If fighting the clutter weren't enough, events of the last few days have brought about the sad situation I now find myself facing. Without getting too detailed, I will share that this is one of those times when the meds aren't enough to stave off the mental demon of depression. My traditional coping behaviors (generally consisting of naps, excessive smoking, and other less attractive options), have slipped back into the daily routine. Talk about draining energy and ambition.
OK, maybe a few details.
First, the experiment of sharing our home with Mom was a disaster. The Mrs. is a saint, but even her patience was strained to the breaking point by having to deal with an uncooperative, obese retiree who is severely Passive-Aggressive. We concluded that it was best for all to have Mom move into a setting that was designed to provide the kind of care she requires. Of course, now I get to deal with explaining to her that she will not be leaving any time soon to return to her Independent Living apartment. Actually, it is more like not returning, seeing as we gave notice of her moving out. Sadly, there is a vast difference between paying the rent for an apartment and paying for 24/7 care, and there was no way to pay for both. Unfortunately, our last visit to Mom presented a challenge, in that we discovered that our expectations of quality of care and the home's provision of care don't quite match. Thanks to the small amount of time she lived with us, that option has lost any appeal whatsoever. In addition to of all of this, I also have the added responsibility of moving Mom's worldly possessions once again (which also involves figuring out where to put it all), and discovering that her pack rat skills have not decreased one bit. Two dozen used paper napkins? Oh, my goodness.
Combined with this is the sadness of recently having to issue TWO refunds for items sold on eBay™ due to damage, both issues unknown to me and one compounded by failure to anticipate the degree of torture a package can go through to get to its destination. It is difficult to explain just how much anguish it causes to recognize one's failings and how much self-anger can be accumulated in such a short time from events like this. Best fuel for depression I know. Best way to stifle motivation.
So, I'm going to go puff one off, then take a nap. Maybe when I wake up I will discover a strong supply of energy to tackle the project, and other responsibilities, with the same positive level of purpose I had when I initiated the project. I mean, anything is better than hanging out with that old feeling…again. Right?
