The weather has turned and not for the better. It is freezing and wet outside. Dark, miserable skies that match my mood, and I sense a non-active day descending and I am in no mood to fight. I check my emails and notes, but my heart just isn’t in it. Nothing for it, I would have to take the day off and crawl into a book.
The next day the weather couldn’t be more different, but unfortunately my mood hadn’t changed. Normally the sight of a blue sky will do wonders for my get-up-and-go, but I fear it has left me, hopefully not for good.
I get these black moods occasionally, and it takes some fighting to leave one behind, so I concentrated on routine tasks as the brain was refusing to even look at anything else. The general thought was, if I ignore it, maybe it will go away. But despite all my attempts at positive thinking, it clung to me like the smell of onions, long after the meal.
The following day it was still hanging around and I had had enough. It put up a struggle no matter what I tried to do, ignoring it hadn’t worked, so I decided to down tools and go for a walk and convince it I didn’t care if it hung around or not. Sometimes this works, but it looked like rain, so it was more than probable it would all go pear shaped and I would be no better off.
Several hours later, after a lot of walking, a cheeseburger at my favourite place, and more than a little rain, I went home, reasonably cheerful and very wet.
Today, there was no sign the mood and I was pleased to say the least. I am not happy being miserable, it tends to get in the way of anything productive and I hate that it can do that to me.
There has been a lot of talk lately about depression and how we handle it. I can understand being depressed when things go wrong; when life gets too hard, but why at other times?
Sometimes I am convinced that depression has to be an actual entity of some kind, intent on making us unhappy for reasons of its own and if anyone can come up with a cure for it, they should make them a saint!