Monday, April 22, 2002

Well, hell. I'm tired, you know? Not physically, mind you, although that plays a part in it, no doubt. No, it's this horrible stinking depression that boils up after any amount of sleep is missed. I get stressed out, miss a few hours, and even though I can make it up to my body, more or less, and borrow some time that way, I still have to pay the piper. It's like the color drains out of life. Interesting, to say the least. Depression is one thing, its instant onset is another entirely. I am coming to realize that the primary quality of it, at least for me, is fear. Fear of all the bills I have to pay not getting done in time. Fear of showing up late at my job, or some other minscule screw up somehow getting me fired, and me having to actually take charge and find another job, or worse get evicted. Fear of having to make a decision. Fear of not making a decision. Fear of forgetting something important. Fear of breaking down in public from all the stress of being nervous about everything else. And, of course, the most worrying of all...fear of cracking, and just....ceasing to worry about it all. Because if I were to do that, I would stop trying to juggle explosive eggs every single day - the tide would overwhelm me, I would falter, and I would fall. And I would not get up again.
Fortunately for me, some sleep and a health food store equivalent to a low-powered antidepressant and I'm fine and ready to face the world again. I worry about it from time to time, of course, but all in all not much, because, after all, worrying is something that you tend to ignore if you've slipped into the World-Snake worry that is depression. The thought raises some sobering points, of course, but you kinda have to look at them out of the corner of the mind's eye, never letting your full attention and consciousness focus on it, because then it becomes your mental state. Last night was a rought drive, letting all that wash over me, and in the aftermath of a stressful night, too. Today, I took my vitamins and supplements, and rested enough that the whole thing has subsided to a dull mutter in the back of my head, metaphorically speaking of course, pointing out unpleasant truths that I have long since learned to accept, if not enjoy. I worry, not for today, or tommorrow, or any day in the immediate forseeable future, but for a day, years or maybe decades down the line, when I have been here too long, when the color has drained out of the world so many times, I am unable to stop the tide. I worry for that day, so I go home, and go to sleep...and for now, the dawn washes all of this away.


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