Irony in the form of Depression

So ridiculous that my last post exuberantly declared life as 'getting better all the time'. I retract that, entirely. Feeling craporama at the moment. The kind of crap that makes you value snoozing in bed as the activity of most importance. Washing dishes, cleaning teeth, attending to things on infinite list of things to do.... that can all get fucked. Yesterday I tried to objectively investigate my reasons for feeling down. I'm not feeling good about the job I'm doing, I'm not getting tickled by BG, I don't have an abundance of money to buoy my mood, my life is out of control, what I set out to achieve this week I haven't. Lack of accomplishment always gets me down the most. When I feel I haven't worked hard enough and performed far below my expectations I dive into a hole and crawl helplessly down it, covering myself with mud all the way. I can't rely on a relationship to make me feel better, and to be honest, the lack of BG action isn't bothering me that much at all, I truly haven't been depressed about it. What bothers me is my own dysfunction. Having someone shower me in kisses, cuddles and what-not would merely be a distraction from this current state of mind and some signifier that I wasn't quite as crap as I feel.

Feeling overwhelmed. What is so ironic is that I effortlessly presented myself to my psychologist on Tuesday night as a progressive princess of positivity. I talked about how far I'd come. We didn't have to deal with any of my sour moods, so we discussed intellectually my desire for the 'sad boys' as she called them. We discussed the dangers and mutually cautioned myself against falling into another codependent dysfunctional relationship. Personally, I'm so dysfunctional that tonight I was due to have a friend over for dinner but given my house is in a state of chaos and uncleanliness I decided to buy her dinner out instead. Operating on my bank balance, only a totally dysfunctional person would do this. I've run out of brain juice for my current job. I'm uninspired. I'm de-energised. I can't be bothered doing my washing. I'm firing on no cylinders. I need a holiday. Considering buying a lottery ticket. Would a functional person do this? Do I deserve a zap of luck? In better moods I'd say yes.

On a positive note some of Tuesday's psychology session has helped my brain identify the fantasy side of my friendship with BG. I am now aware when I'm indulging in the fantasy of it (this isn't that often mind you). I can take any thoughts during that brain phase with a large grain of salt. I'm determined to not take the relationship any further in the fantasy world; this includes reading and writing lyrical emails. Maybe I have retained a degree of function after all. Off to bed in linen that needs washing. Escaping to the book club book I was due to complete by last night. Small mercy that my fellow book clubbers didn't ruin the ending for me.

Daily Stats: Coffee = 2 | Fruit = 1 | Veges = 4 potatoes | Exercise = nil | Alcohol = 2