I’ve been full of anxiety, slight paranioa and a dragging feeling of hopelessness. Unhappy and stetched thin. I made it to the studio for a class at 9:30 in the morning, and went through the paces, but retreated home to bed just after. Made an attempt to give away my evening shift, but no avail. Stuck with going back in to my place of empoy, I performed my function with a knot of misery in my gut for seven hours.

The problem with all this is, trying to keep the analysis of your own emotional barometer objective is painstakingly onerous; and don’t know if by focusing intently a thing like misery I’m blowing it compellingly out of its relative magnitude. I was really upset all night at work, more or less baselessly, and still feel it now, sitting at home with a square of chocolate, some milk, blessed, blessed silence, and a very awake mind at 1am. I’m unhappy. I was especially unhappy with work. I didn’t like the people. I didn’t like my co-workers. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I was trying to make light of my slightly brood-y demeanor with one of my compatriots, sloughing it off as tiredness; but it wasn’t. I was all mixed up inside. So, now I’m wondering if I slept more today because I’m exhibiting depressive symptoms (I sleep a lot when I’m depressed, this I know), or because I’ve been sleeping poorly this past month, or if I was simply taking advantage of the unusually clement tempreature my apartment was exhibiting today.

My more common response to feeling this way would have been to get through the day, push it through by force of will, then go for a drink, and drink until the jagged peaks of that internal sound-scream leveled out to an innocuous hum. This is what I am now trying to understand as Bad Behaviour that is Counterproductive and Harmful, and therefore turned down Invitation for Social Drinks with Co-Workers, and am now contemplating having a Tea to calm myself down for Bed at Home, rather than finding myself at aforementioned Bar.

Yay me.


~ by A Mundi on July 31, 2008.

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