And I’m sure I will again.
I’ve got this sort of cyclical depression going on and I’m trying to figure it out. watching when things go south. I know its pandemica but the hills and valleys must still be lived through. And I’m already on antidepressants. So, I’ll be Holding my hand when I feel myself slipping downwards, taking a good hot bath. Reaching out very gently to friends who will yell or support, either is fine. I have a therapist, I do not feel a danger to myself. (dingding.)
I haven’t got work this week, like i said already. (God! I so hate repetitions. I’m almost afraid of them. Does it mean I’m/you’re not paying attention?! Apologies all around.)
Yesterday was full of things but I FELT morose, which is damn sucky. The things I say to myself are just incredibly vicious. So today I am being more pro-active about it. I will be reading, taking my herbalism class, making sure I am warm and well-fed, without judging myself for having leftover butterchicken at ten am. (Oh good god, it was so good. I will eat it again for dinner, and tomorrow too. Even the kids loved it. It just needed little almond slivers, which i forgot.)
Do I really need a job outside the house, just to battle this shit? Because how can I write at all if I do that? Why God, why did you have to make cinnamon gummy bears bad for me?
I’m off to a bath soon, and I did get to my writing group this morning, and maybe I’ll try to save my poor begonia instead of seeing it as proof of my suckitude. Aye? Depression can suck it today.
Give me a topic to write about. Seriously. I beg of you.