Storm clouds gather, the horizon blackens, in the distance thunder rolls and here I stand without any shelter.
Shelter has been my predominant thought these past few weeks. My days have been spent house hunting, responding to house ads and attending housemate interviews. As each day has offered forth its share of frustrations and rejection my mood has blackened. I cracked in therapy this afternoon and a wave of pent up emotions came flooding out. I've been internalising the rejection, both experienced and imagined, and it has been making me despise myself. The vicious cycle, for these things are always cyclical and ferocious, is that the darker I feel about myself the more hopeless I see my prospects and this shows through in my searching and interviewing. I rule myself out of houses where the advertisers sound too perky and I show up to interviews defeated and depressed.
I'm taking a break from it all and seeking refuge at my parents house. They don't have the Internet so I won't even be tempted to continue my search.
I'm also hoping that this break will serve as some sort of breaker to my circuit. If things worsen I face the prospect of hospital again and that's an unwelcome thought.
I so desperately want this part of my life; the search for housing, the uncertain hours at work and the fluctuating moods, to be over that sometimes I wish the whole game over. I know these are bad thoughts to have and I chastise myself severely for thinking them. I pay for them too. With dark thoughts comes time out of work which funnels into my financial woes. Another cycle. It's all cyclical.
And so too is this illness apparently, though we've seen little sign of it lately. I'm back on the lookout for signs of mania though as in response to my mood shift my psychiatrist has increased my Effexor. Is it terrible that I'm craving a little hypomania right now? Just a little. Just a taste of what up feels like, maybe enough to see me coast through some house interviews as a bubbly person with a sunny outlook, just a little shot of boundless energy and then I promise I'd come straight back down.
Oh dear. Some days I'm glad my psychiatrist doesn't read my blog.
