Sometimes I convince myself that people who don’t get depressed must not be very intelligent. This is a lie I’ve told myself because I would prefer to see depression as a sign of being fully conscious about what bothers me about myself, my family and the planet we are specks on.
I woke up and it was there already, the monster had woken up before me. Then I was lucky enough to go back to sleep it got better. Went to therapy – felt like I’m getting some insight into it all. Met with a friend- felt pretty good. Then tried kundalini yoga and behold I spiraled down all the way home. Yoga is supposed to cure depression not cause it.
In certain indigenous cultures they have grieving ceremonies for becoming a parent as it represents the death of individual self and beginning of being in service of someone else. I wish my individual self would die today (I don’t mean literally) just the impossible hopes dreams, desires, anger, disappointment, and pain. Life really gets in the way of enjoying life sometimes.
I cannot squash my inner child, although I’ve tried and it works for a while and then she bursts through the doors of my consciousness, and starts throwing shit around.
Kids are with the babysitter and they are happy and well. I do not want them anywhere near me in this condition. They deserve to remain unburdened by this. Nothing is funny to me today, even my quick wit has beat a hasty retreat.
I knew I should have blogged ahead…