today's weather: S L I G H T . D Y S H P O R I A anxiety : 2 | agitation : 2
I'm glad that my skin hasn't been breaking out this year. I didn't even change my skin care routine. I believe it's really just a benefit of less stress.
It seems like the elevated phase didn't last long; darn my rapid cycling. I had a few days of dysphoria in which I had racing thoughts, had an increase in creativity and found a lot of things funny. But at the same time I felt extreme fatigue, lost interest for the books that I earlier found compelling. I also noticed my meditations easily slunk into sadness and almost-suicide. I knew better than to stay in bed, so I managed to immerse myself in making pretty things so I wouldn't.
I may only be feeling depressed today because I've been sick, so this might not be a real depression. I'm still hoping it's not. No fever - just some nasty gas trapped in my tummy with accompanying muscle pains and headaches. My torso was nearly cylindrical yesterday; it would have been a funny sight if everything didn't hurt so much. I'm feeling better now because I've had some treatment, but I still feel kinda woozy.
I gave my books a rest awhile because they started to give me headaches. I don't know what exactly it was I couldn't keep up with, but I had this feeling I couldn't keep up with something. I'll return to the books when I'm feeling a bit better and can read a little faster again.
I kinda think this is a depression, but I'm still hoping that it's not. I hate being depressed. Given, I write better when I'm depressed, but I just hate how it feels. I still do those coping things but it gets real tiring at a point. I usually slowly get worse at this time of the year, then hit deep depressions after another before the ber-months. Those are the ugliest, most horrible parts of the year.
I'm hoping things might be better - or at least, more manageable - this year because circumstances have changed.
