It's been a while, but I fear crippling depression is once more rearing its ugly head. I am doing my best to stave it off, and that may be working, but may not be. I haven't had the motivation to exercise in weeks, which speeds up the downward spiral. I spent a great deal of time this weekend doing rather unpleasant things with extremely attractive people who habitually look down on me in an indulgently patronizing way. I spent more money than I can possibly justify on this less-than-satisfying activity. Oy.
What am I doing to change this dangerous trajectory? I'm writing about it, for one. That usually helps me wrap my mind around it and perhaps conquer. I'm making sure I don't try to cure it with sugar, a very bad idea to which I have subscribed in the past. I'm sleeping enough but not too much. Today I plan to try exercising again.
These things may not be enough to keep me in the pink. I won't apologize, as I usually do for being unhappy. I'm sick to death of feeling like I must be blandly happy at all times, the Dworkin family creed. If I spend much of today crying for no real reason (or for no reason that I'm willing to write in this public forum), it's okay; I have that right. You can deal with it or not, but if the answer is "not," then don't approach me.