Through a confluence of accidents*, incidents**, careless self-neglect*** and, well, it’s that time of year****, I’ve realized I’ve been slipping into a major depressive episode over the past week. Which is never my actual plan for a week. Energy, executive function, functional human emotion, and sustained attention have been hard to come by.
Anyway, I am going to attempt @klaineadvent, with another AU in 24 parts, this time a Blaine-centric wintry fairy tale. I hope to get the first bit done today, because I don’t want to cede creative ground to the depression gremlins.
* e.g., as good as Jessica Jones is--and I don’t regret watching it--I would caution anyone who may be feeling emotionally wobbly or vulnerable. It’s a rough ride.
** e.g., I ran out of SAM-e (a mood supplement that works better for me than the usual SSRI’s) over a month ago, and I didn’t order more because I was feeling fine! Hence the entirely predictable slippy slide downhill. D’oh. I’ve no one to blame but myself.
*** Some good news hoped for at the end of the month did not come to pass.
**** I keep forgetting--or underestimating--how hard holidays are, grief wise. So much of it is subterranean that I don’t even realize it’s dragging at me at first. My mental health coping tool kit has its limits, and I feel, too, that we lack a cultural wisdom about things like grief at the holidays. Even my last therapist didn’t want to talk grief much with me. Anyway, brains are weird. Sometimes it’s okay to be sad, but I wish it didn’t suck all the rest of my vitality with it. Boo.
Plus the days are getting so short and dark, and it feels like I haven’t seen the sun in a month, though it’s probably only been overcast, cold, and drippy for a week.
