A hump day, in a galaxy far far away. It's Wednesday and I'm in a very dark place. My mood started to take a downward spiral sometime after lunch. Sure, it was partly due to the hangover which nastily crept up on me from behind (and to which the double dose of ibuprofin barely made a dent). But this is something sadly familiar to me. Recurring state of hopelessness and despair. A negative, big black cloud over my head kind of place where I don't like anything or anybody. Why would anyone choose to feel this way? Asks the wise one. And proceeds to diagnose a classic case of chemical imbalance- take a pill, make it better. Yeah, 'cept been there done that shit. Don't wanna go there again. But I sure as hell don't want to stay here either. Hm. Dilemma.
I want to believe the studies that have been done linking exercise to a good, stable, sunny disposition. That IS who I am 'normally'. I am definitely not feeling normal, and the people closest to me are suffering greatly (so sorry, J) because of it. The wise one gave me a name and # to call, to pursue a little one on one. I'm willing to give it a shot. I'm willing to go the excersise route as well. Double Whammy. My depression won't know what hit it. Time to feel better, sassy girl. Take that curly haired little girl and hug her tight. Don't let go. Ever.
Update: (focus on 'UP')... 1002 stairs later, I am feeling marginally better. The sun is *trying* to shine, the birds are singing. Prospects on the horizon. Hanging in there.