There are two keys to my depression – the things that go sideways first. One is eating, the other is sleep. This week both tanked severely.

The kid was struggling with anxiety and sleep. Joe was away, which means that she was struggling more and that it was all on me to try my fix to help her. She ended up spending 3 of 5 days out of school, which is not great.

Meanwhile, when she struggles to get to sleep I, in turn, tend to stay up later because I’m so desperate for some time that’s just for me. My TV shows, my bath, my books, my surfing. I didn’t get much of that time this week, so I stayed up until 1 or 2 am trying to fit it in.

This of course means I spent my days exhausted. Exhausted and anxious because I didn’t know what to do for my kid.

On Monday I made a good dinner. On Tuesday we went out. On Wednesday I tried to make dinner, figured out the meat had spoiled and ended up making her something quick and less than healthy. I didn’t have dinner. On Thursday I made her spaghetti, but we didn’t have enough sauce, and I didn’t feel like having any anyway, so I didn’t eat dinner until Joe got home around 10:30 pm and brought me Mcdonalds.

It’s bad.

It’s this feeling that I really need to just let it all go and cry for a while, but I can’t get the tears out. My emotions are eerily level. I have expressed rage this week, but only in all caps.

It’s been a really tough month and I’m not sure I’ve really dealt with any of it. I don’t know when or how I will.

I feel very vague at the moment. That’s the only word I can think of to describe it. There are so many things I could, should and want to be doing, but often I just don’t.

It feels like my problems are not big enough to carry to other people who I can see struggling, so I keep it all to myself. And sometimes it explodes in my head.

I surround myself with yellow flowers. Yellow flowers feel like my Gramps right now, and I’m keeping them near me. A vase on my desk. I used his pen.

A puzzle that I have opened but not started sits on a table. An embroidery project that I have started is in a bag, hoping not to be forgotten.

I half cleaned the house last week. I even took down some of the curtains to be washed. But it’s unfinished.

It’s all, vaguely, getting away from me.


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