Crash

I woke up this morning to find I had something like thirteen emails waiting for me by 9 am, and all but three were junk mail. It wasn't exactly thrilling, to say the least, and on some level I had hoped I might hear from that old boyfriend who's disappeared. Obviously I didn't.

I guess that this is the end of whatever hypomania has coasted me through the summer. As fall approaches (and in Indiana, the latest-opening schools start this week) it's inevitable that my mood will take a downswing. I hadn't expected it to happen quite yet, but it happens when it happens.

At this point I'm not in a full-blown depression, not down in the subbasement just yet. I'm trying really hard not to look down the stairs, either, not to look ahead and see the all-consuming dark that's waiting down there. It's funny how little things can hurt that much more when your mood starts slipping, though.

Today I had trouble with my work server and ended up getting less done because of a system crash than I normally do. I'll live, I can always put in some more hours the rest of the week and since I typically work Saturday and Sunday for at least a bit, it'll even out. But I've been fighting the urge to crawl back into bed all day.

It does look pretty comfy...

I'm tired, I feel old and alone and worn-out. Thank God I have a DBSA meeting tonight so I can talk to people about things, but it's only once a week. I keep telling myself that things will get better soon enough-- I'll make new friends who don't require that I'm a drunk or a druggy to hang out with me, I'll save up some money, I'll get back on my feet more completely-- but today it seems like this limbo might be exactly that: endless nothing.

Apathetic depression is worse than the ones where you cry all the time, because there's just nothing there, nothing to interest you or excite you, no reason to do anything. You have to basically become an automaton in order to function at all, and even hurting would be something more than being dead inside. Unfortunately, I'm pretty prone to those apathetic depressions, although we'll have to see if that changes now that I'm not severely self-medicated.

It looks as though the coaster has changed directions, and now we're going down the hill, and hopefully not into a long tunnel. Again, I can't predict the future. I can only try to keep myself busy, keep myself writing, and get through each day to the best of my abilities. Most importantly, it's a matter of not beating myself up for feeling this way, because it is what it is, and that will only make it worse.