Like one of those storms that just appear out of blue skies, a sudden black funk landed on me yesterday evening. Suddenly I was done: out of energy and motivation, feeling on the verge of tears and unable, seriously unable to even move my body.

It felt like a bit of a shock to my system, so I didn’t even think about what a good coping mechanism might be. I curled up in bed with my children, who were annoying and non-stop and wouldn’t go to sleep – but they were distracting and I love them, so that was kind of helpful.

forgot. Isn’t that crazy? I wouldn’t have said I’d been in a particularly good mood for particularly long; I mean, I’d been irritable as hell pre-menstrually, but I guess it had been a long time since I’d been hit by the full whack of depression.

What’s a “long time”? Probably just a few weeks. Like two or three. I will sometimes say that I suffer from emotional amnesia – when I’m not directly experiencing an emotion, I find it difficult to remember what it was like. Worse than that, it means that when I’ve had an emotion for more than a day or so I forget that I’ve ever felt differently. Right now I can pinpoint exactly when the dark cloud landed, but if it hangs around for too much longer it will start to seep out the edges and I’ll forget those blue skies from beforehand. My history will become polluted by storm clouds for much longer into the past.

It gets hard to carry when that happens because despite the fact that I know intellectually that it’s going pass, it feels like it might never. Right now the prospect of going to work for the rest of the week fills me with absolute dread. I will do it and no one (other than the people who read here) will ever know that I’m feeling like this, but right at the moment I feel like a horse being led into a box. Umm… I guess I feel like a horse that’s frightened of the box, coz some horses are actually pretty okay with going in. But you know that look on a frightened horse’s face? Eyes white and rolled, ears back, legs braced – half a ton of hell no! in equestrian form. That’s what I feel like right now.

The prospect of facing that internal battle everyday for the rest of my life feels kind of overwhelming, despite the fact that I know that it won’t be everyday for the rest of my life. Right now that’s the feeling. And it’s a battle to pretend that’s not going on.

Where did this come from?

Does that question matter? Does it have an answer? Will I feel more guilty if there’s a reason I’m being “silly” about or more guilty if there’s no “excuse” and I’m just a broken person?

I think it’s a bit of a combination though. I think there are some things going on that are contributing to me mood, but I think they wouldn’t be piling on if I weren’t already at a natural mood dip in whatever inscrutable sine wave pattern my mood has decided to oscillate in this season.

Nothing helps but time. I need to give my sine wave time to crest upwards again. I need to wait for some of the events that are plaguing my mind to pass through time and get resolved in one way or another.

There’s at least one thing that should get slightly resolved this morning and more fully resolved in a couple of weeks – the robot. The malfunctioning systeming badly taught robotics module that I was so excited about at the start of the year. That just has to play through the next couple and weeks and things will be a little bit better on that front at least.

The uncertainty over what’s happening with our house has me pretty churned up. I feel like I’ve been suspended in gaffa for the past year with my hopes being constantly prodded and expectations building despite my best intentions to not allow that to happen. Again, time will resolve this because all I need is certainty. I can deal with whatever once I actually know what whatever is.

Meanwhile my skin has stress-broken out in about three really painful boils. Thankfully they’re not super visible, but it’s all contributing to this sense of a system under pressure and not coping with it particularly well.

I would make a good subject for an English essay. If only I were written better.

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