Not for long.
I had a "Clayton's breakdown", the kind you have when you don't go all the way over the edge. My body was walking around but my mind was snivelling and hiding in a corner somewhere and didn't want to come out and play. It took a lot of bribery and hysteria pills to coax it into some order and out of the blubbering stage.
It was my fault for trying to meditate and lower the stress levels. It appears that tension is the only thing holding the cells together. I've forgotten how to meditate anyway. The only time my mind shuts up is never. One half tried very hard to be still and calm, the other half was like a yapping dog looking for its bone.
I think I'm okay now but I did pass the chocolate aisle yesterday and didn't want any. That's a worry. I've also stopped perving on guys in tight jeans, although that could be age not depression and a dearth of decent perves.
It's scary that I went this way when I haven't had an episode for years. I've been so happy ever since the Blight left that I haven't had time for meltdowns. Fortunately I'm always prepared and have a drawer full of chemical assistance to get me through the night, day, week, month, however long it takes.
It wasn't trying to clean up the desk either, the papers are still hovering. I have finished a meme and knitted a scarf (badly). Sense of humour didn't dessert (desert, spelling might have) me. I laughed at a small child who dropped his ice-cream and stood in it at Westfield yesterday.
I believe we're having Spring already. The north wind can piss off for a start. Influenza A is bringing down oldies, Equine Flu is raging through horses and Howard the Wart is still at Kirribilli. George the Looney is looking to notch Iran on his gunhandle before he goes out in a blaze of glory.
Dearie me, the mind is starting to edge towards its hideout again, better go bribe it with food.
10 comments:
r.h. said...
What? You've finished a meme and knitted a scarf?
Wooh! That's it: done it all!
-But how about some mag gossip, just as an encore.
ROBBERT!!!
you finished that meme that I got too?
it involved using one's LINKS ... ???
and completion is evading me.
The wind out here on the Western Plains is so fierce today I have lashed myself to the mizzen' mast to avoid being blown overboard.
sorry to hear of your attack of the blahs. take two.
I felt exactly the same way after reading Sedgwick's blogger board last week. Unfortunately there were no children dropping ice creams and stepping in them to raise my spirits, so I tickled a budgie under its beak until it hiccoughed. That tends to do the trick. Alternatively farting into an envelope, which you then seal and send to somebody you don't like, has certain benefits.
You have proved my theory about a spot of schadenfreude - it cheered you up. That confirms everything I've always hoped about being human.
That aside, er, er, whatever you say here. You know, like, stuff...
Well RH, I finished a meme and a scarf. Mag gossip is all drunks and anorexics or both in the shape of blonde skanky 'starlets'.
Links, what links? It's Middlechild's meme and I've got a long name. Never mind you, are the chickens okay?
My God, Hughes, the talents you have but I am ringing the bird society for tormenting a budgie. Now the envelope trick could be a winner, just label it 'To my mate George from your devoted slave/servant/syncophant John Rodent Howard. Annie and I will cough up the stamps.
I thought of you last night Phil, no, not in that way, but the Antiques Roadshow had a whole shed full of restored Humbers. You would have drooled more than you do when the home brew works.
'Antiques Roadshow had a whole shed full of restored Humbers'. Oh no! I missed that. Any Series IV?
Geez Andrew, a series IV bloke I could tell you about but a Car!!!
Humbers? Somebody into old Humbers round here? My Old Man's got a Humber Hawk in his garage. Full leather interior...indicators that stick out of the side like wings when he wants to turn...we used to go on holiday in it when we were kids...made me spew up everywhere 'cos the leather smell was so violent.
Now you've done it, Hughes. Are you going to flog the car with or without your old Dad behind the wheel?
Oddly enough, my mother has been trying to get him to sell the 'damned thing' (as she calls it) for years. It fills the whole garage like some sort of horrible giant cockroach...a garage she could put to much better use, apparently. No idea in what fashion. Possibly she fancies sticking another bed and oven etc. in it and getting my Old Man to move out of the house.
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