slowly on
Hm. Yes. Well.
Things have been a little bumpy over the past few months, I'll have to admit. What with work and various other things, it was sometimes eleven o'clock at night before I sat down to do anything for myself and then I was working through to one o'clock in the morning, often rather frantically, to get things done. Then getting up again at half past six to get ready for work.
Then I was given some evening jobs to do - not especially late, but they meant I was getting home around eight and not getting any time to myself until midnight or so, and it started to take its toll. I started nodding off at work and wandering around in a fog. Things probably weren't helped by the fact that I was getting a little too fond of the booze, to the tune of about half a bottle of Scotch a night. One night I looked at everything I had to do and I thought, `Bugger it,' and went to bed instead. And I did that the next night. And the night after that. I did manage to keep in touch with things through Facebook, although mostly as a form of displacement activity while I was at work.
I have a friend to whom something similar happened while he was at university and he thinks I had a bit of a brush with nervous collapse. I'm not sure about that, but things did get on top of me all of a sudden, which was scary and not nice. I don't think it was depression, because depression is a terrible thing and all I did was kind of slump, but something did go wrong in my head for a while.
It's odd the way things work out. A month ago I slipped and fell in the kitchen and tore a ligament in my knee, and ever since I've been at home on crutches. The first week I lay in bed, zonked out on painkillers and mostly asleep, and ever since I've been resting. Which it turns out I really needed. I've also managed to go some distance towards drying out, which has been quite difficult. I'm still having the odd nightcap, but hopefully the mad drinking is over. As usual, God poisons his gifts, because without a drink I now seem quite unable to write.
I know I still have stuff to do, but I'm kind of picking up sticks at the moment. Bear with me.
*hugs*
Things have been a little bumpy over the past few months, I'll have to admit. What with work and various other things, it was sometimes eleven o'clock at night before I sat down to do anything for myself and then I was working through to one o'clock in the morning, often rather frantically, to get things done. Then getting up again at half past six to get ready for work.
Then I was given some evening jobs to do - not especially late, but they meant I was getting home around eight and not getting any time to myself until midnight or so, and it started to take its toll. I started nodding off at work and wandering around in a fog. Things probably weren't helped by the fact that I was getting a little too fond of the booze, to the tune of about half a bottle of Scotch a night. One night I looked at everything I had to do and I thought, `Bugger it,' and went to bed instead. And I did that the next night. And the night after that. I did manage to keep in touch with things through Facebook, although mostly as a form of displacement activity while I was at work.
I have a friend to whom something similar happened while he was at university and he thinks I had a bit of a brush with nervous collapse. I'm not sure about that, but things did get on top of me all of a sudden, which was scary and not nice. I don't think it was depression, because depression is a terrible thing and all I did was kind of slump, but something did go wrong in my head for a while.
It's odd the way things work out. A month ago I slipped and fell in the kitchen and tore a ligament in my knee, and ever since I've been at home on crutches. The first week I lay in bed, zonked out on painkillers and mostly asleep, and ever since I've been resting. Which it turns out I really needed. I've also managed to go some distance towards drying out, which has been quite difficult. I'm still having the odd nightcap, but hopefully the mad drinking is over. As usual, God poisons his gifts, because without a drink I now seem quite unable to write.
I know I still have stuff to do, but I'm kind of picking up sticks at the moment. Bear with me.
*hugs*