It's like that feeling most often attributed to Mondays and getting back to work. The sudden increase in heaviness and utter exhaustion hits and simply moving seems a Herculean task. I'm home from my holidays over 9 days ago and still.. I simply can't.
I can't stop sleeping all the time; fearing the housework that is being neglected; worrying that the dog needs more playtime from me. I can't stop feeling so empty and depressed, uninterested in life and just wishing I could hide until it's all over.
Plus, the world has become a scary, unstable place to match that which is in my head. My mental health has had a referendum and decided to truly co-ordinate and gang up against - trample any good thought or feeling I may hope to have. It's a nightmare of depression, anxiety, panic attacks and utter confusion all day, everyday.
Sorry friends. I have stories and many glorious scenes to share with you from our wee trip to Tenerife. Toby is delightful and I must update you. Plus the snowdrops are still coming out and though no hope has been felt in their white flowers this time (and the fact that the patch is spreading), there are many things planned for this spring that I ought to be excited about.
I'm still here, still fighting and will write soon.
It's going to be OK, right?