Yesterday, I left the house. Voluntarily. On purpose. To do a thing.
I went to the middle school, where I have 2 children in attendance. I worked two hours in the library. I checked in books, checked out books, reshelved books, and straightened chairs and tables.
Usually, my depression is controllable. Usually, my anxiety is controllable. Since February 2012, when my father died, I have had a progressively more difficult time controlling these problems.
It’s been bad enough that I sometimes have gone a week without bathing or doing anything besides reading and sleeping. It has been bad enough that I have had to buy grocery staples online and have them delivered, even though it cost much more, because I could not leave the house.
But yesterday, I went out. To a library and spent two entire hours touching books and smiling.