Honking the Horn: Is it Effective or just Mean?

I'll admit... I was a rather impatient driver today. It's a 15-20 minute drive to my daughter's preschool, and anything more than that is just unfair.

But I may have gotten a bit carried away. I think I honked my horn 5 or 6 times today. That's a new record! And it's not like these were blaring honks by any means... It was the lightest tap possible to get the people in front of me to move, because they were either turned around disciplining their kids, or talking on their cell phone, or just too busy hanging their arm blithely out the window... Come on, people!!

And I live in Utah... WHERE NO ONE HONKS EVER! So I've found a nice little tap of the horn to be greatly effective. Unfortunately, not everyone appreciates this tactic of getting what I want whilst behind the wheel.

But, alas and alack, my impatience got a bit out of hand. I got way edgier than usual on the drive to and from my husband's work this afternoon, and he scolded me a bit. But it wasn't until I tapped my horn that he really got upset. I just don't understand. Is it some kind of huge taboo to honk your horn in a calm little town in spite of the fact that most of the people there can't drive??? The answer, apparently, is YES. But I realized my husband had a point. I needed to calm down and not worry about making it home in my dream time of 14 minutes. So I took a deep breath and gradually shifted from this:

To This:

... Hey, it could have been worse... and by worse I mean completely insane (You know what I mean, Cruella...).

But we've survived another day, and I have renewed hopes to forever be the slow, calm, stress-free driver... you know, the one everyone else gets mad at. muahahahaha....

A breath of fresh air

Yesterday, shortly after typing my crazy-depressed post on here I typed a plea for help on my primary blog. At the end I typed, "Please help me before I don't want help anymore." A couple of minutes later I literally felt like someone, somewhere in the world, had said a prayer for me. I distinctly felt like someone was praying for me. It's the weirdest thing... But the feelings of despair and inundating hopelessness dissipated within seconds. The music I was listening to no longer sounded the same. The air I breathed no longer failed to satisfy. My head was clear. It was... amazing, and it went on with that clarity until my husband got home from work.

This morning all those feelings of depression, the worthlessness, the disinterest in everything, the loneliness... it's gone. I woke up this morning completely clear, and it's fantastic. I survived a minor depressive episode fully intact, and I'm so grateful.

Now... bear in mind that a minor depressive episode is not nearly as bad as a major depressive episode. Those last for months. The depression just grows and grows, and all the bad feelings linger and fester and expand until I want to die. And that wanting to die lasts for a couple of weeks at least. Now you have a hint of understanding why I started this blog in the first place. I'm terrified of having another major depressive episode. I don't want it to conquer me. And I don't want anyone else to have to suffer alone if they have clinical depression. They're not alone, and neither am I.

Episode?

The past few days have been awful. Maybe it's a depressive episode of some kind, but more likely, it's a recurrence of the PMDD I had as a teenager. It's bad. I'm aware enough to realize that something is really wrong, but I already feel like I'm drowning. Hopefully this will only last a few days. All the minor depressive episodes only last a few days. Just a  few days. People must think I'm crazy... I am... but only part. The other part is trying so hard all the time to be a good wife and mother. It's all I ever do. The only real friends I have are my husband, my sisters, and a couple in-laws. All my other friends have moved on, faded away. Finances are stressing me out so much. I don't want my husband to get me a birthday present. I don't want to buy a halloween costume. Because we can't afford it. I'm suffocating. I'm suffocating. I'm dying. I can't breathe.

It's Probably the PMS talking...

How is it that I can feel so alive and charismatic in public and around friends, but when I get home and I'm no longer distracted by the busyness I feel so inundated with hopelessness? Normal people wouldn't understand I guess... I hate depression.

Um... what?

I thought my jeans were starting to feel looser, but I figured I had just stretched them out. Then I realized I must have lost a couple pounds when I noticed how lean my waist looked a few days ago. So I weighed myself today for the first time since July... and I've somehow lost fifteen pounds...

... Wait a second, WHAT?

I've lost fifteen pounds. And all I've done differently is that I started eating fruit and walking my daughter across campus to class in the morning. I hate fruit, but I've been eating it when my children eat it.

... Also, the red hair may have indirectly boosted my metabolism.

Zing!

I've been so pumped about everything today. I can't stop shaking. I have so much energy. I'm so dizzy. Dizzy all day. Dizzzzzzzzy! Not in a good way though, but I feel so good. I feel like I might faint. I felt so passionate and alive today. I felt totally invincible. I am finally alive!