I have dysthymic depression -- a low-grade fever of not-rightness that has its peaks & valleys. I suppose that, in the world of depression, a valley is a good thing, whereas a peak is one or more levels more not-rightness. I'm in a peak right now, with just enough objectivity to observe it, describe it, & really resent it.I can't say what's brought it on. The after affects of much tension, perhaps, or the last withdrawal pains from sugar -- who knows? Today is Day Ten sans Nabisco & the day is early. Perhaps I'll pull a happy rabbit out my hat by the end of the day. I could also be too many dogs & the sense I have that my house & my days are not my own.
I went ass over tea kettle walking Boomer & Henry yesterday & skinned my left knee pretty nicely. It had two effects: a sensation of something breaking loose in my heart-brain, something of sadness I couldn't name, & an excuse to forgo taking the dogs out to the park & stay home & read. I manged to get a spot on the couch & the next thing I knew, Daisy was sitting in my lap gnawing on Henry's face while Hero & Boomer hovered for attention. That's what I mean by feeling that my Cave is not my own.
& when I'm bound by seven days of early & late walks, it makes me wonder when I could do this life I should be having.
Everything feels on hold.
It's been going on a while. I just IM'd a friend that nothing will cure it -- suggestions of "do this, do that" are of no help & only make me angry & frustrated & ashamed -- but myself & time.
There are symptoms with this -- I wake up too early, I'm incredibly forgetful & absent-minded; talking on the phone or in email is almost physically painful. I keep putting the wrong keys in doors & walking out without this or that necessary thing. I'm not keen on bathing or cleaning my glasses or doing the dishes. I'm clumsy (see above, to whit), which includes dropping things & bumping into things. I've lost interest in my camera.
I have very little energy & find myself leaning against walls or slack-jawed in front of a dumb computer game. I could sleep all day long if the dogs let me. It's hard to get interested in anything. I feel overwhelmed by needing to go to the dry cleaner's today.
It's also diurnal. Early mornings are better than the rest of the day. I find myself vacuuming at 8:30 or running errands. I have moments of energy later but they don't last long & are arbitrary, except for the evening, which is almost as lively as morning, when I'm rudely interrupted by a nine p.m. dog walk.
But I'm not eating over it, which is good. I'm trying not let things start a bad day -- the clothes I ordered & didn't fit, or the clothes I ordered & are too big & I just thought, fuck it: I'll keep `em. My thighs itch from the crotches on those sweat pants...
I got to a 12 Step meeting on Saturday, which is also good, & I have a wedding to go to on Friday so I had my hair & eyebrows done -- I was very very gray at the temples. I have no idea how I'm going to survive the wedding party. I know four people at the huge reception & am going because I was asked, because it's "good" for me & because my friend is the groom's mother & will appreciate having someone to dish with later. I have a lovely new dress that I hope I don't look pregnant in. Sugar or no sugar, I'll drink champagne.
Yesterday I made some phone calls -- reordered meds (I'm not out, so don't blame it on that), checked on a bill, etc. I roasted beats & Vidalia onions, which took some prep work. I repacked the clothes I'm returning. I try to do what I can even though it feels sisyphusian & more piles of stuff to deal with appear each day. I know I'll pull out of it if I just wait, don't go cake-mad, start bashing myself for it.
But right now it sucks.