Tuesday 2 July 2013

At least something.

I got to the verge of nervous breakdown, got back on antidepressants. After a month, I'm back to a maximum dose of citalopram and I feel worse than what I had thought the utter bottom: the feeling that I should only plop down to the ground and be dead. Nope, I'm not suicidal, I totally don't plan to kill myself. Either I have too much of an ego or too much of a responsibility but I would feel compelled to clean up my table and files and that's a major task (see Augeas'stables to get a better idea). I'm just tired by all the things. I'm trying, though. I read somewhere reasonable that keeping the stereotypes helps to maintain normality, illusion of thereof, or makes going back to usual easier, or, simply, that it's good for you. Funnily enough, I've been managing most of work just about okay without falling to the ground staying fallen. The rest... not so much. So: (1) Brush teeth (2) Take meds - while I hang onto them as something that preserves last bits of sanity, I still keep forgetting (3) Put on at least mostly clean clothes - yes, finding a clean top/panties requires much more physical and mental energy than grabbing yesterday's one. (4) Brush hair thoroughly, not that it just looks somewhat neat on surface (5) Fluids (6) Fluids (7) Herbary work - I have a heap of pressed plants and a heap of erratic notes. My memory tends to fail when I'm depressed. The more I'm delaying it, the worse it will get. (8) Zazen - just because (9) Wine is not balanced diet. Even if I alternate cépages or years. Another sensible meal. (10) Third sensible meal. Anything made of two and more food items, of which one may be wine, counts as sensible meal for now. (11) Shower. (12) A little bit of cleaning at least. As for yesterday, I ate something (what the hell it was, is another puzzle to solve), took meds, drank two small bottles of water and took the trash away, for a total score of 4. Life rocks.

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