Weird thing, depression.
Sometimes, it can be a huge source of motivation for me — I will be active and creative to numb myself and just busybusybusy. That was last week.
Other times, I’m a worthless waste of oxygen, because I get NOTHING done. That’s this week.
What are the 7 stages of grief again?
I’ll be OK, I know it. I’ll be sad for a long time, I know that, too. But it’s just tough to sit here at the bottom of the pit and wonder when I’ll get to see the sun again. I know it’s up there. I want to climb out of the pit. But finding the internal strength to DO it is just outside my capacity at the moment. I hate that.
Hopefully next week will be a manic creative week again. I’m bored. I prefer the mania-to-numb-myself to the complete lack of ambition that I’m afflicted by currently.
2 thoughts on “Boredom.”
We really should talk. I’m in that same pit. These past few weeks have been SHITTY. The meds no longer work. Ugh. I love you, E! You’re so not alone.
I’m sorry, E. You’re right, mania is much, much better. Hugs.