Chipmunk: Rx for Depression
Earlier this week I was hit with a depression unlike any I've ever felt before. I think after the breakup with Michael (my partner for over 5 years), I had immersed myself in busy-ness, with moving to a new apartment, buying new furniture for “my” new place, plus a lot of activity at work. So I've kept my own depression at bay by keeping busy, and a few days ago it finally hit me full-force. The fact that I turn 44 next week, “alone” for the first time in 5 years, may also be a factor.
I have a whole new understanding and respect for my friends and loved ones (and clients) who struggle with depression. I've never experienced it this deeply before.
I'm addressing the depression by taking St. John's Wort (which seems to be working for me quite well), and I'm meeting with some friends and spiritual advisers this weekend. I've also scheduled a new-client orientation at the gym near my new apartment.
On Wednesday, when the depression was at its deepest, Kato, my mystical cat, was sensing my depression and kept wanting to play with me, pouncing on me, “tagging” my feet with his paw and running off. He went outside and brought me back a dead chipmunk, which he placed on my bed, just below my pillow (the appointed place for sacrifices), as he meowed loudly over it and did a little dance. I guess a dead chipmunk is the feline prescription for depression. It did motivate me to put on my shoes and get out of the apartment to walk out to the dumpster – after, of course, Kato had finished his dance.
Kato himself, of course, demands a daily sacrifice of tuna, but that's another story. . .