I slept until noon. I woke up, off and on, throughout the morning, but just kept rolling over, pulling the covers up, and fading back into the twilight. I just couldn’t do it. Didn’t feel it. Didn’t feel like it. Didn’t wanna. Didn’t have to. So, didn’t.
There are times, when I’m depressed, that I just don’t feel like putting forth the effort that it requires to be likable. I avoided Bill pretty much all day – not so much because I was upset with him, but because I knew I wasn’t going to come across the right way at all. I had nothing to offer, and I didn’t want to take more away from him with my darkness, which he can do nothing about. I could tell he was pretty annoyed at my “attitude”, but I was in the place where I was just wallowing away and didn’t give a flying fuck about his opinion.
Yeah, it was bad. But he didn’t say anything, stayed out of my way, and left me alone. He’s learned, that one. I’ve learned, too. He gets the same courtesy from me when he’s off in the dark. Fortunately, the cycles don’t cross very often, and we know enough about how to pull one another out of it if it goes on for too long.
Anyway. I had some “breakfast”, then cleaned the kitchen, and washed and folded laundry, and went grocery shopping, and cleaned litter boxes. Then I had a sandwich and took a three hour (I think) nap. After I’d only been up for three hours. Then I cooked dinner, took it back in the bedroom to eat, and watched some DVR’ed television until I got tired of that. Read a book (“No One Noticed The Cat” by Anne McCaffrey – more of a Young Adult book, and read cover-to-cover in an hour – a comfort read). Gave the bedroom up to Bill, came out into the living room, and watched three DVR’ed episodes of Gray’s Anatomy with Amanda. Then went to bed at 12:30, and Bill was already fast asleep.
When I woke up this morning, I was realigned once again. Ready to work, ready to cook (a picture heavy entry of my adventures with Boeuf Bourguignon is forthcoming), ready to exercise, ready to listen to music. I’ve learned not to try to analyze or define these bouts with depression. If I occasionally, just for a day, give in to it, usually it works itself out. A chemical thing, I suppose, or a cyclical thing.
Whatever. It’s over, now. Until the next time.