the blahs
(Or why I haven't posted in the last few weeks)
I can blame COVID for the initial absence, of course. But that would just be an excuse, and it wouldn't explain why it's now March without me writing.
I had the blahs. You know it, don't you? That weird mild depression that doesn't prevent you from working and bathing and cooking dinner, but seems to stop everything else? Yeah. That.
I haven't had the energy to work on the writing I need to publish soon, either, and that's not like me at all. Words and art are usually what I turn to when I have the blahs. This has been an unusual case. I still have (self-imposed) deadlines to meet, though, so I make myself do fifteen or twenty minutes a day. Once I start, I'm okay.
Without the art-as-a-release dopamine feed, I turned to my doctor instead and started a higher dosage of my anti-anxety/anti-depressant/nerve-pain-reducer/insomnia-helper, amitriptyline. It's been a few weeks. I'm seeing an increase in energy. A tiny bit. The vivid dreams are back. Nightly adventures are fun and a good sign.
Some people don't like to talk about things like this, but when I bring it up on my private social media, I get a lot of messages and comments. People are relieved to have someone bring it up.
So here I am, bringing it up. We should start group therapy together. Or we should do puzzles. Something calming where no one stares at each other, waiting for something profound.
