The Bloody Doors Off

I’m experiencing a dip. Started last night. No underlying cause. It just is.

I wonder if I’ve done this to myself. Counter-measure to feeling happy. That it’s such a foreign concept that I have to unconsciously sabotage myself. To keep me ‘grounded’.

Which is utter bullshit, I know.

But it’s the way my brain is wired.

Isn’t that fucked up?

I am heartened that I have a fiancée who understands. A boy whose laugh can lift my spirits. And friends to support me.

Ultimately, it is enough.

But right now.

Ugh.

I hate this.

Ride it out, I tell myself. It’ll pass.

And it will.

I just can’t make it go any faster.

At least Harold isn’t here, whispering in my ear. He’s a bastard, that one.

Just plain old, middle-of-the-road depression.

But M and C are home now, and I feel it lifted, just a little, by their presence.