Lazy

Depression brings the desire to do nothing. Not out of laziness, but out of a lack of motivation to live. Getting out of bed, taking out the trash, making a phone call just seems impossible. My poor self talk punishes me.

Loser.
Idiot.
Moron.
Big fucking baby.

These basic tasks which consume my to-do list often get done anyways, but then I reflect on the fact that I "only" got out bed and took the trash out.

What a waste of a day.
What a waste of a life.

This internal turmoil is private and in my head. On the outside, I appear lazy? Fighting the flu? On the inside, I feel like I am dying.

And the trash bin is 45 steps further than none, which is precisely too far. But I still take out the trash after two hours of beating myself up.

And then I reflect on how I managed to "only" take out the trash.

My therapist has told me "Being lazy and unmotivated are not the same thing". She said to type it up and hang it on my bedroom door.

I feel lazy. I feel like my day is wasted. My life is wasted. Men and women are overseas fighting for my freedom. Cancer patients. Parapelegic. Trauma. And then there is me.

Taking out the trash feels like "too much". And it is a self-created "too much" which is, as a matter of fact, all in my head.