I’ve always taken a fairly gothic view of life. When we were little, my sister would be all “Puppies! And unicorns! And rainbows!!!” And I’d be all “Death.”
It should be no surprise then, that I am occasionally depressed. I’ve had the therapy. I’ve tried the herbs. That went so spectacularly badly that I’m not gonna try the drugs, thank you.
The Reiki’s been a huge help. Massive. To the point where I thought I’d beat it for good.
So I was a little surprised when it finally dawned on me the other day that it’s not actually the heat. OR the humidity. Nope. It’s my old friend depression, slowing my steps and making me tired beyond all reason.
It’s not really that bothersome anymore. I’m really, really lucky. My run-ins are minor. And fairly manageable. But they do make it difficult to form sustained, coherent thought. Or, once formed to get them down in writing. Like, in a blog post.
There’s no reason for this latest bout. No one’s died. I haven’t lost my job. Exciting things are happening. Life is great. But still I am depressed.
It will pass.
I know a lot of you understand this.
I read your blogs. I see your comments. I am not alone in this struggle. And neither are you.
Sometimes we need to take a break. To cut ourselves some slack. To rest.
And to admit that this time, the beast wins the round.