drawn by the undertow

There are good days, there are bad days.  I’d decided in my head that today should be a good one.  I checked out the weather forecast, rearranged my day off work to make the most of a fine spell, dreamed of hills I might stomp over, and photographs I might take, folded maps and packed a bag ready to seize the day.  I even knew how much better I’d feel at the end of such a day: physically tired, but mentally refreshed.  As plans go, it was a pretty damn good one, if I say so myself.

Only depression doesn’t work like that.  You don’t get to pick and choose the good days; planning doesn’t work any more.  When I woke up, today was a bad day.  No reason, it just was so.  The sun shone brightly through the gap between my curtains, the birds sang invitingly of fresh green Spring… and I just wanted to stay under my duvet and hurt.

This is where being a grown-up sucks.  I prised myself out from under the duvet, drank All The Coffee, drove the kids to school, sourced 4 safety pins (child 1’s urgent and essential need du jour), unearthed two tombola prizes from the Drawer of Unwanted Gifts, and found (child 3’s) Coat That Was Lost.  It wasn’t a bad impersonation of maternal coping, if you ignore the cracks (hair brushing, smiling, ability to feign any interest whatsoever in children’s day…)

And now I have a day off to myself, which is bad, and two days of work ahead, which may or may not be worse, who knows?


I hate all this.



Filed under a little bit mad

8 responses to “drawn by the undertow

  1. So sorry you’re so low. Well done for coping. Sending you a hug. And damn those flowers for being so pretty when you’re feeling awful!

  2. katherinea

    What does the Doctor have to say about it? Have you got a decent one for this sort of thing?

  3. dawn

    holding you tight and sending love

  4. Chocolate still tastes good, though?

  5. Gnome

    Hugs, cake, things to break, duvet.

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