Once again I have thankfully come out on the other side of depression. For me that means a very productive day full of cleaning, organizing, and rearranging furniture.
For my son, that means commenting frequently over how messy I have made the house, as my mother use to observe before him. To do a proper cleaning, in my opinion, means pulling everything out, sorting, cleaning it, and putting things back (not always… okay, not often in the same place.)
My husband, who is often away while I am doing this, it means coming home to a completely changed house, where nothing is where he thinks it should be. It seems to annoy him more than anything else, and I find myself defensive and thinking can’t he see things are so much cleaner this way? Where he is commenting on how hard it is to find things.
For a while, though – for one glorious afternoon, and for days after when he is out of the house, I feel really good about what I have accomplished.
Frequently on these days, I can be found carrying around heavy furniture by myself, or balancing something at a precarious position, and crying for my son to come and help me. Thankfully, he has always been home during those moments. He comes to me shaking his head, and wondering what I have gotten myself into this time.
He patiently helps me out, then lectures me again on beginning projects that I cannot do alone – knowing completely that the next day I feel the sun shining on me again, I will be there again, crying for his help… and he will come, laughing, as he always does.
I crave the change. I don’t know whether it is the change in the way the light comes in, or maybe the angle in which I view the world, but I always feel better when things look different – until I no longer see the change, and the dust starts to build up.
Moving heavy furniture calms me. It always has. I remember even at eight and nine years of age, pushing my furniture around my room – and lifting heavy bookshelves to the top of my closet, just to see how it looked. In the moments where I am coming out of my depression, it is something I have to do – nearly as important as breathing.
And so I have completed another day of rearranging my house, and cleaning, and I feel so good!