Please go away Mr. Postman,
I already have enough mail, thank you very much,
And my, aren’t those a lot of dead trees you’re carrying?
What good can possibly come in the mailbox?
Unless it’s my birthday or a holiday why bother checking?
It’s only going to be bad news. It’s only going to be a bill.
Not my normal every day bills, I pay those online,
A mystery bill, most likely from some hospital visit.
Shouldn’t my insurance handle such things?
If I open the mail I have to act and I don’t think I can,
So instead I stuff the mail in all the nooks and crannies.
Every corner of my house is overflowing with dead trees,
Dead trees telling me I owe someone something.
It isn’t that I can’t afford to pay it, it’s just that I can’t handle it.
It’s something about the physical form.
It doesn’t make any sense but, please don’t make me open the mail.
I woke up around 7:30am I think, brushed my teeth, got breakfast and then slept until 2pm. I had posts to write, my journal entry for yesterday and this post I’m excited about about not feeling grown-up. I don’t know why I slept all day. I can only think that my depression is worsening. It was getting better. The bipolar coaster is the worst. So now I can’t write. I mean I’m writing this because it’s quick and less formal than the thoughts I want to lay out in the other post I should be writing.
I have been completely depressed all day but, I have made plans for getting past my mail phobia. I don’t open mail. It is a real problem which I address in the post I’m working on about being a grown-up. I have decided that this weekend I am going to at least sort the mail in alphabetical order (by company name) and then once it is all sorted I will tackle one folder at a time. I’ve asked my family for help so I’m hopeful that this will actually happen.
Well I am going to go to sleep early because I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow if I don’t just get hit with another crazy wave of exhaustion. I hope this finds you well or working toward wellness.