I'm having what can only be described as a 'down day'.
Ok so I know I'm having a lot more of them lately what with the kids being gone and everything, but down days are depressing.
Ironic really.
I spoke to the kids at the weekend after sending a bit of a shitty text to their dad. Why does it get to the point that I'm made to feel crappy and need to send such things? Surely he can't enjoy it? Anyway they are having a lovely time, and I felt reassured.
I've had to shut all their doors and remove their toys from around my living space while they are gone. I went into the two little ones room the other day to do something, I forget what. It was musty and smelt unused. Dimmed because the blind, which has broken, was pulled down. Light just managing to creep around the edges as if it knew it didn't belong there being too bright, vibrant and alive. The room smells of the girls, but ten times more powerful for being shut up. I left very quickly and closed the door again. I had contemplated going in to tidy it all up for them for when they get home, but I'm not sure I'll bring myself to do it.
There are many things I should or could be doing while they are not here, things which my mum delights in listing off almost daily during her lunchbreak where our very different lives converge briefly for twenty minutes, time enough to unsettle without imparting any real sociable get up and go motivation.
I tried to explain. Tried to tell her how I'm not feeling like this on purpose. I can't help it.
I made what for me was a superhuman effort not to get annoyed with her as she carried on with her mild berations, and suggested that coming off the pill recently might also be having an affect on my mood.
Why can't I just be normal?
I feel pathetic.
A thought continues to worry me lately as well.
My doc wants me off my (low dose) antidepressents as I've been on them now for quite a while. I feel like they are my lifeline to something vaguely resembling a normal existance. But a thought occurred to me. What if I'm not really depressed, but what if i'm actually just a really nasty moody person? What if the pills i take to keep me on a more upbeat keel are in fact altering a state of being that is doomed to failure each time i'm off them?
Maybe I'm just a bitch?!
God that's depressing.
Secretly I sometimes wish I had something concrete wrong with me that would be the cause of my feelings. Not just some daft ovarian syndrome and occasional inner ear issues. Something that can be fought. Like if I had a brain tumour or something, then that would justify the apathy, the depression, the intense hollow inside. Then life would have a reason to be miserable. I've often thought that, but never said it aloud.
I'll shut up now I think.
Hopefully I'll be able to lift out of it a bit in a couple of hours.
The bunny bitch has scratched my throat to hell and gone. Evil thing. Perhaps the bopping them on the head idea wasn't such a bad one! I cleaned out their hutch, and realised that I'd run out of sawdust, sigh, so I've got to go out.
It'll probably do me good.
