One of those weeks… in which the black dog makes an unwelcome appearance.

It’s been one of those weeks. One of those crippling weeks. One of those weeks where if you saw me, well. You’d think all was fine. And on one level all was fine. I was breathing. I was making sure my family made it to places on time. I ate and drank and even ran. If I talked to you it was a pleasant relief from the inner mashings of my head and I was grateful.

I’ve been trying to work out if I am lying if I reply to the questions of how are you with ‘fine thanks’ rather than, ‘actually I feel I’m being chased by all of hell’s demons who seem determined to make me believe the lie that I am crap, useless and have no friends or worth on this world’. I’m not sure if it’s all that helpful to say those kind of things out loud or not. I certainly never know in those black dark horrible times how to articulate the terrifying feelings within. I convince myself I am full of self pity and that no one wants to hear about my self pity.

I’m not sure how helpful chatting about it might be. In the black hole days I seem unable to reply with any level of positivity. Having a conversation with me in those moods is exhausting. Everything is met with a wall of black. Just ask the amazing husbandface. In the past he has tickled the grumps away and refused to indulge my insane responses by laughing at me. I’m not sure that option is open to many people.

It’s been one of those weeks.

I’ve lived and breathed but inside felt the crushing horrible weight of the black dog. With the weight lifting slightly today I can see reasons: change at home, the eldest starting school – starting the transition in my life and his, a conversation about precious potential future plans playing on my mind- hopes and fears and what if’s swirling around, the fall out of returning home from adventures and life looking pretty similar to before we left, the lack of a new start feeling at this time of year and the hideousness of feeling like the husbandface and I were trapped in our separate perspex boxes unable to reach each other.

It’s been one of those weeks.

The clouds have started to break today. Conversations are happening, I had a lovely cycle in the sun and a chat that didn’t involve small children this morning, the sun shines in the sky, we have acknowledged our perspex boxes and a hand hole or two has been carved out so we can reach each other. We survived the first week of vague school routine and I’ve loved the walks to and fro getting me out in the fresh air.

So if you’ve seen me about this week then I’m grateful for human contact beyond my weirdo head. I’m sorry I don’t know how to say, ‘life is crap but thanks for asking’, to you. One day I hope I’ll get better at that, but I’m glad I had opportunity to talk about something not in my head, it was a much needed distraction and a help on the road to feeling a bit better.

It’s just been one of those weeks.

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2 Responses to One of those weeks… in which the black dog makes an unwelcome appearance.

  1. Hmmm. I have to say I’ve had a pretty dire week too. Soldiering on as you are and feeling a little less desperate knowing I’m not the only one needing to soldier on…

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