July 13th

 It has been a difficult couple of weeks.

It's pretty damn clear I am in the grip of a fairly consuming major depressive turn. A lot of the time I am locked in a personal hell. Some of that time I lose my marbles. My thoughts become sketchy. Reality shifts. The world is misery. I know. That it's just me. Well. Kind of. I know the world right now is also less than stellar. But. I know it's me. My internals. I cannot control better days from bad. I have no say in stopping and starting. It just is. And there is no great rhyme or reason to it. Not because I am alone or hungry or angry or something happened. Just the rise and fall of biochemicals. The days are pretty much repetition incarnate.

Don't get me wrong. There are things that can help a bit, or hurt.. a lot. But it's building sandcastles in the breakers.

Physically I feel weird. Off. Dipping in and out of mildly ill. I've had far worse. But it's like a disharmonious orchestra. And it's ominous. It threatens at times to pull the rug out entirely from underneath me. Do you need to pass out ? This is the tickle stage of passing out. Oh. No. No. Let's. Just hold. Here. Maybe you do. Maybe you don't.

Weird.

Mentally I am, bah ha ha. Half of me is lost to the fairies. I have stopped using a lot of my brain. Just. Floating. Numb. The other half quiets, then stomps into losing my mind, then quiets. Crazy. Then plays a game. Repeat.

Interesting.

I have become even more adept at sensing when the "spiky bits" come. When just.. existing.. in reality suddenly becomes very hard indeed. Sharp. Painful. Crazy. Miserable beyond words.

Bonkers.

I made a serious effort to bust out this week. And went swimming. In a pool. For the first time in, yikes, 30 odd years. I did it in a state of anxiety and zombie depression. If everything ends. I am gonna go swimming. Fuck it. Just to remember. There is an upside to getting to the bottom. Your number of fucks to give dwindles towards zero. 

So I took my fat ass swimming. My body remembered. Even after all that time. Instinctive. I always tended not to swim like other people. I get bored. So I do fluid - when I am not going for distance or speed. And my body remembered what it was like to twist around like a fish. Surprising really. But super out of shape.

All in all it helped a bit. I didn't go backwards. I maintained. It gave me a focus. So. I count that as a win. I think I will try keeping up the swimming. See if it helps long term.

The relief from the few people who know can be palpable. That I am doing something... normal.. like swimming. They don't say it otherwise. But at times like that, you can hear how afraid they are for you. By the depth of the relief.

A drop in the ocean. I am wayyyy further away from saving than that.

Athena is doing ok. Her wound has dwindled down to a point of a scab. Her age is increasingly telling. Particularly in the heat. Her legs wobble now and then. A stumble here and there. Old. I try my best to ignore it. And just be happy that she's still bumbling around.

Hard times. Suffering pretty hardcore. And for the most part, I have elected to stupidly isolate myself. Withdrawn. Contain that misery.

The days roll by and I float in a daze. The simplest of things are hard. Any kind of date or deadline is a monumental pull and effort.

Ah well.