I'm in the middle of it. Again. And I'm telling myself that this is temporary and that my brain is lying to me. And I know it. And at the same time I know that I'm useless. And that it will never get better. All night, I dreamed of war and slavery and being hunted. When I woke up, my back hurt and my chest and I felt like I would die if I had to get up and make sandwiches and take the children to school. I didn't die. They have sandwiches.
Yesterday was too good. I had a great run with Jack. One of those easy ones in which I hop along with my back straight and a big smile on my face. I came up with a wonderful bit for my new book. I had energy left over to take Charlie to the park and run along while he tried to cycle on two wheels. And then more energy for choir.
This is temporary. This will pass. I am not ridiculous for wanting to write. Even if I never get published. There are sillier things to do. Tomorrow will be better. Today I will rest, do the washing, watch Frasier, take it easy. Tomorrow, I will run again and know that today was a chemical glitch.
On the topic of chemical glitches - I saw an interview with Andrew Solomon on his book The Noonday Demon. It's a big fat book about depression and came highly recommended by the interviewer. I've downloaded the preview and I'm thinking of reading the whole thing but I'm worried it will bring me down. (Haha!) Have any of you read it? If so, would you recommend it?