Back Again.
I have internet access again. Yay! These past few weeks have been going well. I've been socailizing more, both local and long distance via phone. I am also pretty much achieving my eat two meals a day goal. Matt thinks I've put some weight back on. I'm less "ribby."
I'm still looking into where to move. Seatle and Philadelphia are the top contenders right now. Each has pros and cons. But each seems do-able.
I'm currently writing a series of poems. Just trying to document my depression and all of its various moods and textures. This may provide some useful insight for my counselor. This may also provide me with material for a book...or something. I've decided to submit some of them to Oprah, maybe get on TV...it would be fun. I wonder if I could talk some of my other family members into it.
I still don't sleep much. It's not that I have a problem sleeping once I am asleep. I just can't fall asleep, my mind whirs. And plus...at night, as we're trying to fall asleep is when I feel most guilty about Matt and stuff. And staying up until two or three or four in the morning wouldn't be so bad, if I didn't have to get up, pretty much everyday, around 8:00am to drive Matt to work. I got almost six hours of sleep last night, and it feels decadent.
Anyway...must get ready for work now.
Here's one of the new poems:
Depression Oblique: Bad Day I
Morning extends to noon & beyond.
A sputtering sense of shame
rouses me from bed around two.
By-passed are a shower, breakfast,
and brushing my teeth.
I warm several cushions on the sofa
as I restlessly flip through
the wasteland of daytime television.
I exert myself enough
to pick him up from work.
There are still some lines I won't cross.
But the evening hours are whiled away
lost in any world but my own.
I eat only if he feeds me,
or if something prepackaged is on hand.
After he is asleep I spend countless hours
in pursuit of nothing.
And when at last I am ready to surrender
one nothingness for another,
I feel the barest of twinges
at the fruitlessness of the day,
and the messy clutter of my apartment.
I'm still looking into where to move. Seatle and Philadelphia are the top contenders right now. Each has pros and cons. But each seems do-able.
I'm currently writing a series of poems. Just trying to document my depression and all of its various moods and textures. This may provide some useful insight for my counselor. This may also provide me with material for a book...or something. I've decided to submit some of them to Oprah, maybe get on TV...it would be fun. I wonder if I could talk some of my other family members into it.
I still don't sleep much. It's not that I have a problem sleeping once I am asleep. I just can't fall asleep, my mind whirs. And plus...at night, as we're trying to fall asleep is when I feel most guilty about Matt and stuff. And staying up until two or three or four in the morning wouldn't be so bad, if I didn't have to get up, pretty much everyday, around 8:00am to drive Matt to work. I got almost six hours of sleep last night, and it feels decadent.
Anyway...must get ready for work now.
Here's one of the new poems:
Depression Oblique: Bad Day I
Morning extends to noon & beyond.
A sputtering sense of shame
rouses me from bed around two.
By-passed are a shower, breakfast,
and brushing my teeth.
I warm several cushions on the sofa
as I restlessly flip through
the wasteland of daytime television.
I exert myself enough
to pick him up from work.
There are still some lines I won't cross.
But the evening hours are whiled away
lost in any world but my own.
I eat only if he feeds me,
or if something prepackaged is on hand.
After he is asleep I spend countless hours
in pursuit of nothing.
And when at last I am ready to surrender
one nothingness for another,
I feel the barest of twinges
at the fruitlessness of the day,
and the messy clutter of my apartment.