Usually the depression hits me late fall, and in the early spring. It's pretty rare for the fog to hit me in June, but here we are. On Friday I realized I didn't want to talk to people. All last week I had trouble sleeping, and all I could think about was going to bed.
Saturday I forced myself to head downtown to the park, to support some friends in the Relay For Life. I was outside, I was visiting, I was exercising, and still it was a struggle to hold a conversation.
Sunday, I told Hubby that I was having trouble being happy. Usually just admitting to the problem makes me feel better, much like calling for a doctor's appointment cures illness. I slept in on Sunday, I napped in the afternoon, and I still wanted to go back to bed and stay there.
This morning I feel a bit more alive. I think I might be past the low point, and swinging back up, but still....this sucks. It just....sucks. I hate feeling underwater. I know people must wonder why I am suddenly not talking. My house is a mess, my work is falling behind, and my whole being is being pulled back under the blankets, where it is warm and quiet, and the entire world is blocked out. I'm running and fighting and hoping to keep ahead of the blackness, but I'm tired and I can't help but think of how nice it would be to just lie down, close my eyes, and stop. Just shut it all out for a while.