My old friend depression.

Saturday afternoon. Sun shining, meditation music on and the house to myself for now. After last nights Happy Hour and Zoom session, I got up just before three. Three!? That’s not happened in a very long time. I was still fuzzy for some time after waking too. After a few coffee’s, I went out to do some shopping. I hate it still. The constant reminder of how poor we have been since My Lady died never changes. I still notice the things we used to buy without a thought, knowing I can’t justify the cost. I fended it off for months with the well paid vaccine work, but that dried up and reality checked in some time ago. Just as well I was well paid. It’s taken me two years to get out of that middle class financial head set, and I’m still not quite there. Almost, but not quite.

I find myself in a strange head space right now. I was in the garden for a while fixing the fence… Again. And there was I, thinking those days were over. Flashbacks again. This time to the trauma I was wallowing in, that summer of 2020. The waves of the meditation music won’t be helping I guess. It’s the same one I had on repeat in the garden all that summer. I could still quite “happily” be out there all day, every day, in the sun doing my thing. No need to work, no need to go out and no financial worries.

Wouldn’t we all?

I have no idea what my grieving experience would have been like had we not gone into lockdown at the end of March. I’d have been pushed to go back to work for one. I was anyway while My Lady was in hospital. Some people just don’t understand how close some couples are. We had our problems like any marriage, but we loved each other enough to work on them. Constantly. Seeing My Lady on a ventilator was soul destroying. How could anyone possibly conceive of my leaving her side? The one day I did go into work, after much pressure, I was high as a kite on Diazepam and spent the day giggling at my colleagues. I should not have even been let in the building. They didn’t even send me home.

I’m on the sofa again, doing the usual. All through this long bank holiday weekend, all I’ve wanted to do is sleep. The depression is bad this weekend. No idea why this time. I did my long shift at the Ding vaccination centre on Sunday. Despite the lateness of my return home, I mounted my Princeling’s TV on the wall. Jobs done, off duty. So I stare at my computer screen for most of whats left of the evening, feeling so lethargic I can barely be bothered to get up to go to the toilet. Hoping for some distraction, I gamed for a bit. That didn’t work for long. I played my guitar for a couple of hours. That helped a little bit, but even while playing, I still couldn’t quite shake it. At that point I gave up and went to bed. That didn’t help much either as the overthinking kicks in at bed time. It’s becoming really frustrating.

Bank holiday Monday morning. I tried to go back to sleep many times, to no avail. I ended up getting so bored, I got up anyway despite still feeling exhausted. I booked Tuesday off from work so I’ll actually get two days in a row off. I intend to do as much resting as possible. I’ve bloody earned it.

In the evening, I played guitar for a while again, then ended up gaming again too. I only ever play Battlefield 1942. It’s been redone so it can be played online again. The game was released all the way back in 2007. Despite it being a first person shooter, I find it relaxes me. I like to find a spot to hide and snipe. Sneaky little shit that I am.

Tuesday now and it was the same as yesterday morning. I woke naturally just before my alarm was due to go off at six twenty. ‘No thanks.’ I thought and turned back over. I had another hour or so then my mind starts doing it’s thing again. FFS I fell asleep (eventually) over thinking and I awoke in the same state and still tired. Joy.

I’m sat with that meditation tune on again, staring at the screen, bored but unmotivated to do anything. How new. This vibe is getting on for over a week now. I hope I can shake it soon. I really don’t want to have to call the doctor again. I still haven’t heard back from the counselling team. After a while, and my Princeling still sleeping, I lay on the sofa again. Cue another hoodie nap. It’s becoming a habit (again) whenever I’m off work now.

Still, at least I’m not drowning my sorrows with alcohol any more. Over the last week, I’ve opened three cans and didn’t finish one of them. It wasn’t even difficult. I genuinely didn’t want to finish them. Fascinating what you can achieve if determined enough. Curiously, I’m aware of the slight urge for a beer right now. I won’t, of course, but it’s there nonetheless, niggling in the background.

My Princeling and I have not long got back from the Ham shops. I still hate going there. Superdrug being gone still triggers me. The more the world changes, the more I resist it. As pointless as that is. I’m sat at my desktop now staring at the screen again bashing out this drivel. Great. Full circle back to this morning. Bored now! I’m going to force myself to crack on. Just sitting here feeling sorry for myself is helping no one…

0ur shower has been playing up recently. Hot, cold, scorching. I’d purchased some Oust to descale the shower head and kettle. Usually works wonders. Trouble is, you cant treat the internals of the shower with it. Long story short, I ran it for ages with the head off and shed tons of scale came out. I had it running for ages until it ran clear again. I’ll be trying it out shortly. Satisfied that I don’t have to buy a new shower just yet, my mood lifted, slightly. My Princeling has gone to work and I’m painting my nails and having… Oh wait…

It’s a beer.

Sod it, I’m not beating myself up over this one. Once my nails are done I’ll jump in the shower, make my bed etc etc. Then what? I’ll probably be back here feeling sorry for myself. Living the dream…