I remember being excited to get out of bed. What would I do first? Go for a bike ride? Paint my nails? Plant the citrus trees? Bake a loaf of bread? Read all morning long? Yoga?
Now I am waking up terrified of all I have to do. I have to talk myself into the day, and still, throughout, I am so tired, all I want to do is sleep.
I went home depressed from work on Thursday at noon and spent 95% of the next 36 hours in bed.
Today I was exhausted after a shower, breakfast, and a 3 hour turn-around trip to LA, yawning incessantly on the drive home.
Now it is early evening and I am in bed and now keen to get out.
I don't know if this depression is the long-distance relationship, the living with people, the worthless job, the absentee friends, or if it's me, just me, just my brain losing the battle against depression.
It's a phase I go through, I guess. There's a light, but it is many months away.
At least I'm getting help this time. A spiritual advisor, who had made me feel more accepting of my current state in two sessions than three months with my current therapist, who desperately wants me to go on Zoloft again.
I told the boyfriend last night that I'm going to do it; that I can't live like this anymore.
Who knows if it's the jet lag or PMS or the disruption of habit or just a general sense of being overwhelmed with absolutely everything, but I am an anxiety-ridden mess unless I am sleeping, and even then I am dreaming disturbing things.