As a whole, I’m doing better the past few months than I have in, like, ever.
The past four days have been an exception: I had been waking up a bit down in the dumps, but as a general rule it was wearing off once I got going; on Friday, however, the feeling kind of stuck with me.
Yesterday seems to have been the zenith — perhaps it would make more sense to say nadir — of this particular depression. I suppose the fact that I just plain wasn’t feeling well complicated things.
Today, I’m feeling a bit better on both the physical and mental fronts. Still not all there, but at least more or less functional. Apparently, the sleeping-for-fourteen-hours bit and the wheezing bit were only tangentially related: one was the result of depressolepsy; the other of my asthma deciding that it hadn’t said “hi” in a while and should probably remind me it’s around, or something like that.
A lot of this is complicated by the fact that I’m out of medication and currently unable to refill my prescription for stupid and ridiculous reasons (read: our finances remain complicated, for the moment). The medication I take doesn’t treat depression, nor is it properly a mood stabilizer (sidebar: I almost typed “mood sanitizer,” FFS, though come to think of it that might be rather apropos) but it does go a long way towards keeping my mood on a fairly even keel.
Today I am back to the strategy of basically distracting myself by doing things that I don’t find horribly onerous, like making bread and maybe washing the sheets (thanks to the cat’s decision to sleep right next to my face; apparently, he thought I needed cuddles: to be fair, he was correct, but I like cat cuddles better when the cat in question keeps his dander at waist level or below).
I am feeling depressed in part, by the way, because of our financial straits. Situational depression is definitely a thing, and it’s a thing that is very much a problem for me, since my brain likes to perseverate on emotional states. Way to go, brain.
Coming up with a plan to get out of our current straits is hampered by the fact that being depressed makes me much, much less rational, which also makes me do things like weigh myself three times in one day (and discover that my assumptions about the relationship between time of day and weight were, if not baseless, at least a bit off-base: I weighed less at 12:00 than I did at 8:45, go figure).
In other news, I am biting my lip and letting my stupid toe heal, so doing Brienne’s class tomorrow is a non-option. I dreamed about going to aerials class, but that will have to wait ’til we get ourselves unmired, financially speaking.
I missed Claire’s final class because my toe was really quite seriously painful on Saturday morning; apparently, I was still supposed to be wrapping it before walking around on it all week. Le sigh. I may be able to go back to class on Saturday; I may not. We’ll see.
So that’s that for now. Nothing philosophical or balletic to contribute to the Internets today.
PS: Derp, half the point of posting at all right now was to link a recipe that I tried last night.
So, without further ado, here’s a link to last night’s really delightfully-easy fried rice:
This morning, I can’t say that I was doing brilliantly well, emotionally speaking. Although I am still wearing my chipper facing-the-world persona, I’ve been wrestling a depression.
Today’s calf injury, coupled with a message about a bill I apparently forgot to pay, has pretty much capped it off.
The call injury shouldn’t be a big deal, emotionally. Shouldn’t, but it is. I can’t explain why because I don’t understand why. It’s not even like I can’t go to class for the duration; it’s just that I have to back off the pace.
I try to stay upbeat and keep a positive attitude and all that. Somehow, though, this just feels like a setback I didn’t need.
I could get all emo about this, I guess, but this is about as much as I feel comfortable writing, today. This is the point at which it starts to feel like whining into the wind.
So that’s that.
Please enjoy this picture of my cat mucking about with some poor, deranged bug that thinks it’s suddenly spring:
I’m cautiously optimistic that I’m recovering from this week’s episode of depressolepsy.
I got to sleep without any trouble last night (regardless of the caffeine). I woke up once at around 01:30 to stumble, zombie-like, to the head, and then to stumble onwards into the kitchen, where I ate one quarter of a baguette because I was starving.
This morning I’m up and about and feeling mostly human: predictably, my ankles are stiff (they always are after I take a break from ballet and then return to class), but otherwise I’m making it.
I am debating whether I’m ready to jump back into intermediate class tomorrow morning. It might behoove me to do Saturday’s beginner class instead for a couple of weeks in order to get back on form, even though that will mean following a W/S/S schedule for a bit, which seems a little weird.
In other news, I broke off the Karakoram’s wing mirror yesterday, so I snagged a replacement from Bardstown Road Bicycle Company. It’s a “Mountain Mirrycle,” and it is hands-down the single best bike mirror I’ve ever had.
So that’s it for now. Today is for homework, chores, and going on a date with my husband (woot!).