I love to sew. I love that I can take nothing and turn it in to something. It’s not the kind of hobby that produces results immediately. Most projects take time. Especially if a new skill is being exercised. I also don’t have a dedicated sewing space. I’m less inclined to pull everything out just to put it all away an hour later.
I also have another hobby; clothes. It would be great if I could just combine the two. But clothes take time and I still have not figured out how to attach sleeves.
I made curtains for my living room 12 years ago. Tab top, plaid – they were perfect. I used a borrowed machine and my Aunt and Mom gave me a few pointers to get started. Then 9 years ago I was pregnant with my oldest and wanted to make her curtains and a blanket. My mom got me a machine for Christmas and taught me how to use it. After that I just kept going. Making pouches, bags, placemats, curtains, aprons then skirts.
Then life happened, another bout of depression set in. I went back to school. I tended to my mental health. What I stopped doing…sewing. What I should have done… sew more.
Sewing made me happy. Sewing makes me happy.
That’s the thing with depression. Your brain lies; tells you that nothing makes you happy. To abandon all things that bring joy because you are undeserving of it.
You can’t see it when you are deep in it. But now that I’m out I see where and when I should have pushed through.
In less than a week we have big plans to purge and organize our entire house. I hope one of the outcomes is a dedicated space for sewing.
If you’re thick in the weeds of depression, try to push yourself into your beloved hobbies. Keep them close. They are yours. Make time.