Everything has been going really well for me lately, very positive stuff happening. I had a lovely weekend in London doing start trek stuff and meeting up with a good friend. Work has been good – I got my company car finally and also a pay rise, I have been complimented on how well I run our compliance systems by the team from head office in the USA. then there was the award we won for environmental and energy awareness last week – got my photo in the papers and had a chat on local radio. This weekend there was the AGM of the pencil society (of which I am chair) and that went well too. HAd a lovely meeting up with fellow artists and friends.
So tell my why, when I woke up this morning, was I so depressed I just wanted the world to end?
What is it about me? Why can’t I just enjoy the good stuff? Why does my brain do this to me when I should be on top of the world?
It wasn’t a conscious thought either. It was the first waking moment – a black, bleak fucking great big cloud as soon as my eyes opened.I was OK when I went to bed last night; tired, but OK. I’d done my radio interview, watched a bit of telly, read a couple of chapters of my current book, fell asleep fairly quickly and didn’t wake through the night at all. Then this! So now here I am at work fighting the urge to go and curl up in a ball somewhere so I don’t have to interact with people, pretending I’m fine, laughing and smiling, when inside I am so screwed up it’s unbelievable.
think positive, people will say. But I do.
And a fat lot of bloody good it does.