… a vacation.
… some blunt object to hit me in the head and put me into a coma for a few weeks.
… to win the lottery and spend the next year decorating a beautiful house I’d buy with my winnings and going back to grad school to pursue whatever intellectual pursuits I want next.
… sleep.
… my routine back.
… to really know that the people I care about also care about me.
… time to figure out what’s next.
… to get back into writing or something creative.
… a hug.
… a martini, but only one.
… to calm the fuck down already.
… to not care.
… to stop feeling this way.
… to boost my emotional immune system.
… a warm bath.

I’m moving into some bad mental territory. It’s triggered by stress, but that doesn’t make it any less real or valid. Now is when I start with the distractions… because if I leave myself alone with my thoughts for too long in a state like this, bad cyclical thoughts and things will happen and I will revert back to a person to whom I thought I’d bid a final farewell about this time last year.

Repair work is being done on my ceiling, so for the last two weeks, everything I own has been sheathed in plastic and inaccessible - including my bed, my computer, my clothes (save what’s in a laundry bag that I tote around with me) and my books. I’ve been hijacking computers from family members, etc., but it’s really beginning to get to me - sleeping in a guest room, living out of laundry bags? It’s a bit disruptive and certainly doesn’t help me cope with my pre-existing stress and being on the verge of a depressive episode.

The physical signs, such as they are, are appearing already: I have been going to bed at 10… far too early. I’ve been waking up at 6:00. Again, far too early. Despite all the sleep I’m getting, I have no energy. I have little appetite. My stomach is constantly in a state of mild upset. I am Little Miss Cranky Pants. I have pain in my shoulders and back (that’s where my stress lives). I’m having moments of logorrhea where my mouth keeps going, despite my brain’s awareness that I should just shut up already (trust me, while this is close to my normal state, it’s not always this bad).

I really just want to return to my regularly scheduled programming.

For depression (as for most mental illnesses and conditions) having a regular routine is highly beneficial. I’ve learned this somewhat recently (over the last 12 months). My routine has been severely disrupted this past month and I am feeling it keenly. I’m trying to create a new one (since the old one is currently fractured beyond repair) but that takes time. And that’s disheartening and frustrating.

Ah, well. It’s 8:05. Time to leave for work.