Saturday, January 16, 2010

Ok, I lied

I'm back again.

Which, obviously, implies that the last post wasn't, in fact, the last post.

It may, however, have indicated the oncoming bout of depression that, over the last couple of weeks, has done its best to turn my life into a reasonable semblance of heck. It's probably done the same thing to those around me to, a for that I'm really sorry.

I don't know what kicked it off. There's a whole bunch of possible things, some so stupidly trivial that they wouldn't even be noticed by someone with a brain that actually worked. Others that I can do nothing about, but which are wrong - at least to my moral compass. Others that I probably could have done something about if I'd realised what was happening. But I didn't until it was, really, too late. None of them really matter, because they were all external and not within anything I can do to control. But they, I guess, just built up slowly over time. And then the world caved in.

This, of course, feels particularly trite and self-serving because while I'm typing this, there's a very, very large number of people in Haiti whose world has, in fact, literally caved in. My heart (and the pathetically few dollars I can spare) goes out to them. Now, and via a few charities I support in an ongoing way, into the future I hope -'cause it'll take way longer than the news keeps interested to actually fix what happened.

Which is where I am, I suppose, lucky. I'm getting fixed. Or I'm fixing me. Or something. I don't know. All I do know is that by Tuesday morning this week (errr that'd be the 12 Jan, I think) I couldn't function in any meaningful way. I couldn't (as opposed to didn't want to) go to work. Just couldn't. It was all I could do to not take a very, very large does of something nicely toxic and just go sleepy byes. But that wouldn't be fair to those who are (for reasons I still don't understand) willingly attached to me. So I just disappeared from the world. I stayed home -

Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me.

As so eloquently sung by Simon and Garfunkle.

And, slowly, the blackness lifted. To the point where I can almost function like a real person again. I hope.

I don't know if this is anything like anyone else's experience of clinical depression. I've had it (or at least been diagnosed with it) now for years, and this is the worst single incident I can recall. So my absence from everything - particularly anything social - is entirely due to that. I don't know how common it is for it to suddenly incapacitate someone totally and completely. Hopefully not very, 'cause I'd rather not have that happen every other week/month/year/lifetime, thank you very much.

It's not anyone's fault. There's nothing anyone can do, as far as I know, to either stop it happeneing or make it go away quicker. Short of giving me a .44 magnum, which would be messy, so they probably shouldn't. But otherwise, it's just one of those joyous things that make you realise that even going to work isn't all that bad. There's much blackness - no, really it's more of a dirty grey/brown/nothingness.

And hopefully that's going away. Quickly. With drugs to help. Oh Seratonin, where are you when I need you? Or Pethedine. Or even a good stiff scotch (being a non-drinker, that'd probably have as much effect as a good jab of Peth, I expect.

So, ceiling cat, take note. Thank you for adding to my life's rich list of experiences, but once was enough. I've ated by pillz so leaf meez alonez now - kthxbye.

*This post brought to you via BigPond Cable internet which was broken today but magically fixed by a nice man in India/Pakistan/or somewhere similar within 8 minutes of me dialling the general Telstra support number. That was, truly, awesome service. Yay Telstra. You're getting it right at last.