Depression is a prison where you are both the suffering prisoner and the cruel jailer.

[melayneseahawk]

I've figured out the root of this most recent episode, not that it helps much. My brain has a disturbing habit of self-sabotage that it really, really needs to grow out of. I'm going to get to work tomorrow (yay, orientation) if it kills me, but the way I'm feeling right now? It might.

Add to this the fact that there are some side-effects from the Seroquel that haven't gone away. The meds don't make me sleep more; they just make it harder for me to fight the urge to stay in bed. I've long used sleep as an avoidance tactic, and the Seroquel just makes that easier. But I don't think there's anything else I can try that won't cause harder problems to deal with.

How many negatives were in that sentence? Eew.

stargate_summer is going nowhere fast, which sucks. I really want to finish this, to be able to say I accomplished something this summer. (Getting the job doesn't count; keeping it is much more important.) I feel like the words are there, but I just can't get them on the page.

I guess I'll go eat something, and then see if I can sit down at write something: some filler for Act II, an outline for Act III, the end of Act III (which is relatively clear in my head), something. I know I'll only feel worse if the only thing I accomplished today was to get up (eventually) and fold a few loads of laundry.

Comments

[indywind]

You are accomplishing OMG TONS OF WORDS.

Go write something that comes easy; maybe it'll get the juices flowing.


Ah, sleep. Nature's great, um, whatever... that knits up the ravel'd sleeve of Zzzzzzz....