I do believe

I am somewhat depressed.  I think all the recent work in therapy and what I have been doing on my own has resulted in some depression.  Not unusual in the Dog Days of Summer.  Grief issues abound in terms of dealing with the inadequacies of parenting.  And dealing with Patricia, AKA the former Clovella, has proven to be difficult on my own.  I just couldn't get motivated to play music this morning.  I laid in bed, or couch as it were, and couldn't get moving for over an hour.  Good thing my ride won't be here until after 6:30, late for me to get to work.

I think what I am lacking right now is a sense of belonging, a connection, also a sense of being in control.  I have done a lot of things in my past that I am not proud of, like the head banging, which I am sure has resulted in some permanent damage to my head and its contents.  All in the name of feeling something, anything, but not depression.  Thankfully I think I am past such self-injurious behavior, but not the depression.  But a summer's morning like this, soon to turn cold and gloomy by tomorrow as a harbinger of things to come just pushes me over the proverbial edge.  Again, must I remind you, days are growing shorter by two minutes a day.  I hate Fall and winter is not much better.  At least winter has a certain promise of spring.  But Fall, crap, it's just death and dying, not to mention the dreaded back to school.

So I feel disconnected.  Hopefully Hyphen can put some of this in perspective.  I am overwhelming her with books.  Things I have read that I want to share with her.  Brody's Mom and I had a good talk on Saturday and that helped some but I am cast adrift right now.  Dare I eat a peach?  Maybe a nectarine?  Measuring my life out In coffee spoons,

I have yet another few books I want to read.  One, a graphic novel on being bipolar and another on a mindful path through depression.  I will try reading both at once, depending on my state of mind.  I was reading another book by Susan Forward entitled Toxic Parents and laughed out loud at one point.    The woman was saying how she was depressed but didn't want to commit suicide as she was afraid she would only run into her deceased parents and have them start in again on her.  I said that years ago.  But that passage made me laugh.  Maybe as I droop I will bring that to mind and laugh all over again.  That could have been me.

One other thing I should add.  My oldest cat, Gonif, is hyperthyroid, but just so.  I give him ground turkey a few times a day In lieu of kibble else he will scarf and barf.  Friday he was scarfing and barfing the turkey and puking every time he thought about it.  And I, sweet rational me, was screaming at him for puking.  At least I didn't hit him.  But I was just furious at him.  Really, it wasn't his fault, but it was my problem.  Depression does that to me, makes me irrational.  I just gave him  some turkey and he is laying calmly in front of me grooming.  All is right in his little world.