Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning…
“Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning,
Oh! How I’d love to remain in bed
For the hardest blow of all is to hear the bugler call:
‘You’ve got to get up, you’ve got to get up,
You’ve got to get up this morning!’”
I may be the only person my age who knows all the words to that Irving Berlin World War II song. My grandfather taught it to me, along with other early 20th century songs such as “Come Josephine, in My Flying Machine.” When I was suffering through major depressive episodes before I was diagnosed, though, the Irving Berlin song was the one that used to run through my head every morning.
For me, as for many people with depression, morning was the most difficult time of the entire day. I’m not sure if it was that my depression was chemically the most severe at that time of the day, or if the temptation to stay in bed and pull the covers over my head was a factor, or what. But I definitely remember lying in bed trying to think of good reasons to get up.