I am depressed. Possibly more depressed than I’ve ever been in my life. And you know what’s funny? I can feel that it is only skin deep. It’s only a layer of depression over my otherwise, happy self. When something funny happens, I smile and laugh. When something sweet happens, I feel warm and fuzzy. But in between those times, there is a heaviness that can not be ignored. I’ve been spending time in front of a sun lamp and it seems to be helping somewhat. I may have to buy one so that I can do it twice a day instead of just once. But I’m too depressed to make a $200 decision. I put Rammstein on my iPod and turned it way up and danced myself breathless and it pushed the heaviness away for a time. I’ve been knitting and crocheting a lot and the monotony of it keeps me from noticing the heaviness for a time.
My daughter’s birthday is this weekend and I’m too depressed to plan a party so we’ve agreed that having a few friends over to play is better than nothing. I’ve not gotten her a present yet. I’ve half a dozen things planned but many of them require an internet order and, because I’m depressed, I put them off for far too long. So now she’s going to get some crap we can find on the picked over shelves at our already limited selection BX. It sucks. And I don’t even feel very bad. I just feel sad that Jael will associate her birthday with me being depressed. Mayhaps we’ll have some sun and this weekend will be a happy time.
Or the cloud cover will stick around and I’ll spend the weekend battling tears.