New Carpet, and Books

We’re getting new carpeting today. In the master bedroom and sitting room.

The previous owner must have kept her dog in the master, because there’s pet “damage.” You can smell a whiff of it when it’s humid outside, but most of the time it’s not a problem. Still, no amount of cleaning has gotten rid of it, so even though we really like the carpeting in there, it’s gotta go.

The other room – the sitting room – we call it the Beach Room because we’ve decorated it with our shells and pictures from our time in Florida – used to be our second guest bedroom. But when we got a new couch for the living room last year, we sold the bedroom furniture and put the old couch in the room. We sit in there and listen to music and read. It’s cozy, comfortable. But the carpet is cheetah.

Yep. Cheetah carpeting. Which doesn’t go with any of our beach decor! So it’s gotta go.

Cheetah šŸ† carpet!

This same cheetah carpet is in our massive master bedroom closet, along with a chandelier. In there, it’s so tacky that it’s adorable, and we love it!

So it stays in the closet but is replaced in the sitting room.

Yesterday, I removed all my books from the bookshelves so the carpet layers can move the furniture. It was a good way to pull out books to donate, and organize the ones I want to keep.

I’ve got a little library of sorts – books on depression, grief, and prayer seem to be the main topics. I want to build this collection – particularly the depression-themed books, as topics for my writings.

I also moved all my journals – I have almost 20 completed notebooks! I began faithfully writing – almost daily, sometimes several times per day – when depression started in 2008. I’m trying to figure out how to organize the content of them, so I can use them as resources in my writing.

Once the carpet is laid and the furniture moved back, I’ve decided to arrange the bookshelves a little differently. I have many books that I own and want to read. I need to quit downloading to my Kindle and read what I already own! I plan to put all those “to-be-read” books on one shelf and work my way through them. Or sort and donate, which might be a better way to go.

The carpet layers just called – they’ll be here soon!

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Bye-bye cheetah! Finished product:

Not much to say

“They” say that women use 30,000 words in a day, while men use only 10,000. This sets up quite a difference of communication patterns between the sexes!

I used to talk a lot. It was an ongoing joke that the moment my husband shut off the lamp for sleep, I’d want to talk, tell him about my day, ask deep philosophical questions. Sometimes, he’d even turn the light back on in hopes I’d wind down!

But since my experiences with depression, I am much more quiet. I’m content to listen to conversations going on around me, and don’t feel the need to chime in at every opportunity. I’m happy to observe – I don’t need to contribute every thought I have.

It’s been a noticeable change. Several friends – especially those I don’t see regularly – will ask me if I’m ok. They’ve commented that I seem so quiet. Even my husband will ask me if everything is alright if I don’t say anything for a while.

I think the change is due to several factors:

Firstly, I think I’m a better listener than I used to be. I’m content to hear about others’ successes and troubles. I’m much quicker to pick up on subtext – those behind-the-sceneĀ  feelings. My therapist once told me that I’d find myself able to spot depression in others, since I’ve been through it myself. I think this is true – I sense a person’s unspoken sadness or struggle. So I find myself listening instead of talking.

Secondly, I simply have less to say. There’s just not much going on in my day-to-day to share. My hours are pretty quiet, and often silent. If I have lots of thoughts, I try to write them in my journal, so I don’t seem to have the need to verbally share like I used to.

Lastly, I’m more content with silence. That’s a benefit I gained from depression – being still. I pray, I journal, I don’t need noise to fill every moment. In fact, I usually look forward to my down-time, the peace that comes with silence.

On the Myers-Briggs test, I used to be an extreme Extrovert, which means I get my batteries charged from being around other people as opposed to being alone. But since depression, I’ve moved from the far extreme to closer to the Introvert, where my energy comes from my personal down-time. On the continuum, I’m still an E, but much closer to an I than before. I still need people, connection and community, to recharge my energy, but I’m more content being alone than I used to be.

This past week really tested that observation. My Tuesday small group was cancelled due to weather. I had to cancel my therapy appointment – where I talk most of the hour – due to illness. So my week was much quieter than normal. I still had my students/work, but that’s not socializing or even real conversation. By Friday, I was feeling the silence as loneliness, and I was crying because of it. I felt so alone – way past enjoying the silence. Instead, I was craving that connection and community I mentioned earlier. I journaled pages about feeling lonely. I cried out to God, and reminded myself that He was with me – I wasn’t completely alone. Still, it took me several hours to adjust to a week’s worth of quiet.

Then my husband got home from his business trip, and let me “talk his ear off.” And I felt so much better!