I'm not in the best mood, lately. I can't really put my finger on just why, but I'm not.
As a rule, I try for upbeat realism in my day to day life, as I imagine I've made clear. Sometimes, though, it all gets away from me, and like a giant snowball rolling down a mountain, it all falls on me at once. I get swept up in the dizzying roll of it all, feeling like I have no control over anything--not my days, not my sleep, not my activities, not my own life. It all leaves me confused, drained and, to be honest, depressed.
I think I've mentioned I'm on a cocktail of antidepressant with a spritz of mood stabilizer, and for the most part, they work well. Just at the moment, though, the depression has br0ken through. It doesn't feel like I'm not taking the meds, it's not like that. I can't say it's not as bad as before the meds, because before the meds it wasn't something I thought of as bad. I didn't even know I was depressed. Dysthemic Disorder is kind of weird like that. Things don't feel hopeless, but it's almost like someone kind of sapped the brightness out of life, or overlayed life with a kind of transparent grayscale film. You can see the pretty things, you can see the joy, but it's all dulled out.
I don't feel this way all the time, there are good days, of course. The meds really help to make that blah-colored filter is move away, so I can see the bright colors, or hear the way the wind blows through the trees. It makes things a bit easier to deal with.
Other times, though, it's not great.
Sitting at home, there will be the thought, "Well, I should get this thing done." Then I'll start doing the thing, maybe even finish the thing I'm doing, but it still doesn't look like it's done. I could work on one thing for an entire day, and at the end of it, it's just not done, in some indescribable way. That, or I don't feel like I did anything at all. The room could be spotless, and it won't feel right. The meal I cooked could be amazing, and I'll still think it wasn't right. Something I made could be beautiful, and I'll look at it and decide I won't do it again, because reasons.
I never understand those reasons. They make no sense. There are a number of projects I have which I started, but never finished, or that I bought several of, and haven't done the rest. I can do these things, I know I can do these things well, I even felt accomplishment when I finished them, but I still think I shouldn't do the next one. I keep thinking they'll be awful after (they won't), or that I'll be bored doing them (I won't).
I know what I need to do, I need to tell that stupid little nagging feeling to go pound sand, already, so I can just do the thing that made me happy the last time I did it. For some reason, that doesn't work, though, and I wind up wistfully looking at the project, wishing I could just get myself to do it; to just finish something so I can get my hobby back. I need to work on this by myself, at the moment, as I don't have a therapist to hash it out with. Hopefully that will change.
I'm not all that sure what the point of this entry really was, but I do know I'm done with it now. Seems like another part of the depression thing. I've gotten all of my thoughts out, put what's bothering me out into the sun so I can figure out how to fix it, maybe, and hopefully that will be what I needed.
Ugh, There's a lot of "I" in this entry, here's hoping you were able to stick with it. Thanks for reading.