in pursuit of an empty head

TW: extreme and self indulgent whining.

Well, this is now my only form of social networking. Hard to believe I used to do it for a living. I nuked fb and pinterest, because … eh, because I did. I could psychoanalyse it forever and it really wouldn’t matter either way. And aside from all the blah blah blaaahhh, I’m pretty sure that it’s largely to do with today. This one and the other todays like it. All too bloody many of them.


I’ve been sliding further into depression for .. I’m not sure. I spoke to my psychiatrist about it on Thurs, so around a week before it. That said, I was still feeling more stable through it. But still the downer kept going a little further down. Last night, my dreams were invaded by the worst of my demons. As horrific as it was, I knew it wasn’t real. I woke and thought euw hell horrors thank fuck it wasn’t real. I decided the best thing for it was a walk on the beach and so I did the sunrise thing. I saw a bushbuck on the way, I saw four boats launch, I saw tiny, transparent fish wriggling their way back into the next slurp of the sea on the shore. I’d taken coffee (decaf!) with; I drank it while I ambled along the beach and my dog ran and ran and ran.

Maintain routines is what my shrink advises, keep a structured day. I did, I have, I am. Chores, time outside, a couple of showers … no napping … eating properly … blah blah blah effing blather wince defeat. Basically, all the way through all of it, I’ve been falling apart. Imploding, perhaps. Hot tears, the kind that leave your eyeballs raw and sore. I lump that feels the size of my fist, crammed into my throat. Fear and despair – old friends of most of us – and apparently manic depressives get a special extra virgin quadruple espresso 100% proof turbo incendiary version of those two delightful emotions. THANKS A FUCK OF A LOT, BIPOLAR! Nice one, genes and trauma!



Talk to a friend, wash some dishes, stick some laundry on, appreciate the sunshine and do the daily jog around the gratitude list. Did I mention my angelic meds compliance? Yeah. That too. Oh yeah, I’ve even ticked the sodding creativity box today, by attempting to make embroidery butch again. Told my neighbour a précis of it, because that is also The Sensible Thing To Do. I said I was going to watch some Dr Who, she said good idea, you’re very emotional, maybe that will change it. She is kind and there is no feckin’ point in explaining (again) that I’m not experiencing situational depression.

Trapped in the neverspace, says River Song, about the 11th Doctor.

No need to send the cavalry, this too shall pass and I will get through it and plenty of people have it a hell of a lot worse.

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