Oh My God, My God

It's started again. As Winston Churchill put it, "the black dog." Borderline manic depression. I was pretty high this afternoon (emotionally, folks, calm down on that front); now I'm back in the pits.

Exhausted after a long day. But it doesn't stop there; if I become too exhausted, I start becoming depressed and feeling alone. The fact that John Dear has been asleep in the bedroom for an hour or more (without the CPAP and snoring to beat the band) sure doesn't help me feel that he's in sync to my feelings.

The posting helps though. Somehow, it's as if trying to straighten out my thoughts enough to put them down on "paper" calms me down, stops the pendulum from swinging.

My therapist thinks that this isn't the start of another cycle of mood swings, anyways. She tells me that this is milder -- a reaction to the stress of taking care of John Dear post-surgery. Maybe it is, but I still feel like I've been sucker-punched.

Must go to take The Boy for his last walk of the day. Usually, the night air and a C-SPAN podcast helps me to relax enough to go to sleep. I need the sleep, but more than that, I just really need to relax.

We received a large tax refund and I decided pretty much single-handedly that we will use that money to go with BFF on a nice vacation this summer. Maybe a cruise around the Greek Isles. Sure, I'm extremely prone to seasickness, but time with JD and BFF should be wonderful and a great thing to look forward to.

P.S. Speaking of nausea, "mal de mer" is so much more classy than "seasickness", don't you think?