This happens every single time, but every single time I can’t see it coming. The spiral downward in times of change.
It’s not so much a whirly-twirly ride downwards to depression-town so much as an abrupt inward hibernation with only sadness and apathy as companions.
It does happen slowly though. In patterns. In stages. There are tiers to my sadness. Even in this, my perfectionism must have a hand.
The thing about my spirals, though, is that they always seem like the brutal storm before the end. The fade to black for the drowned.
But nothing has actually happened. Nothing is as bad as I feel. At least not right now. Things just changed.
It was just a transition.
When my sad spirals happen, everything stops. I do nothing I enjoy, nor do I do anything else, certainly things I don’t enjoy. I don’t take care of myself (although this time, I managed to get some showers in), and I don’t take care of things around me. I don’t read, which is the real tragedy, in my opinion, nor do I write, or dream, or plan.
It doesn’t last for months, but sometimes it feels like it takes months to recover.
I’m not explaining to you why I was gone to make an excuse. I guess I’m just putting this here to remind myself that this space between my posts, this emptiness, this sign of nothingness, is something I survive – a lot.
So, anyways, since I survived once again, I have plans. I always have plans brewing when I get out of a spiral. Maybe this time my plan can keep me afloat for a little while longer.