Gravity

No milk for tea.

I’ve been sunny, these past few days. Birthday of Brother #2, tea with friends (I’m cutting back on coffee; besides, tea’s nicer. Amazing, how habit often overrides pleasure). Uni has been going well.

For one reason or another, or several reasons interlocking and which nobody really understands, SSRI antidepressants take 6-8 weeks to kick in. For me, the worst of the side effects – chattering teeth, sweats, anxiety – pass after two weeks.

The world comes back and I come back – not gently, but in strobe light; a jitter-jugger, lurching to life. This all takes time to settle. it’s been sunny, these past few days. But deep down I’ve known I’m yet to settle.

One mistake. One dumb and daft mistake I make yesterday, and I’m crumbling inside, my mind whips ups both fears and rage, rage at myself. I know I’m going nowhere so I go home, the world all sunny and me longing for the comfort of rain. Walk from the station – this is why I’m useless, this is why I’ve failed, this is why I should never, ever try; this is catastrophic thinking, this is the ‘all or nothing‘. Arguing with myself, wishing I’d just shut up. Frustrated; a few more weeks on the citalopram and I’d have been fine.

But right now I’ve been standing unsteady, and a trip leads to a fall. That’s just gravity.


 

When it’s just a trip, when I just get grazed rather than broken, sleep often works. I force myself under and wake in the morning, strangely reset. Get on with the day, with life.

But all sleep brought was a nasty, choking paralysis which I screamed my way out of, and a morning too sharp and tender.

Forgot to drop by Tesco yesterday. No milk for tea.

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