This has been creeping up on me for a while now, but it’s only now hit me full in the face. Yes, the roller coaster ride that is my life has hit the depression stage again, and unusually there wasn’t the manic stage beforehand.
The last few weeks have been complete shite. The constant battle with the marketing department to get some consistency on the web site is a constant source of resentment in me. Coupled with the tedium of my job at the best of times, it’s not a healthy mix.
But worse of all, on Tuesday my Uncle Alan was buried. It didn’t really hit me until we moved from the chapel to the grave side. He was buried in his son Paul’s grave. Now Paul was a cousin of my mine who died of the same condition I had, and I’ve had a terrible guilt complex about his death when he rang me up to ask about the operation and I said “it’ll all be ok.” After his death several years ago, I didn’t speak to Uncle Alan. To see them both in the same grave didn’t help.
It was uplifting to go to the wake, and apart from wondering “who’s’ that” for three hours, it was a good occasion because a) it’s not often my brother comes down from Malvern to visit and b) I met all the uncles, aunties and cousins who I remember from my childhood. Perhaps turning up with a hangover from the night before when I went out with my brothers wasn’t the best idea, but it’s what my Uncle would have wanted.
So anyway, my misery continues and if one more person asks me in work “what can I do to help?” I’m going to swing for them. You can’t do anything; it’s just the cycle of my life. I’ve been pretty good since my two years of therapy at spotting I’m on the edge of falling into a depressive state, but the past two weeks have been too much for my frail grip on reality to handle.
In this state, I’ve deleted two Twitter accounts, two yahoo accounts I’ve had for donkey’s years that I used to annoy people with on the internet and finally decimated my main Twitter account of followers who, according to my head at the moment, “suck.”
It’ll probably mean I’m out of some people’s good books, but not in a position to care at the moment.
Give it a few days and I’ll snap out of it and I’ll be right as rain again.
Maybe.
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