Slept in again. Why can't I get motivated to get up and fight off this depression? God, I hate myself right now. Can't even type. Must be some therapy in here somewhere. I so want a catharsis. Wake up happy, eager. That's the main thing, eager for something. When I was a kid, just being outdoors was a goal. Now, I need a reason. Something dear, like bike riding to some destination, an errand or a "ride" as in a Mtn. bike ride, completing something.
So I take my meds. Wish they brought some kind of instant up, like an aspirin for a headache. That feeling of knowing it will be ok soon and I can go about feeling relieved. This is what really gets me (further) down.
Noticed my sleeve was wet, probably from rinsing dishes. But I subconsciously said, "Where did all this water come from?" which was the question that alerted us to the fact that our first daughter was on the way. Now that memory brings tears. Of joy? Some cosmic sadness that the kids are gone, grown, not really needing us anymore?
Then comes suicide. Meds taken, third espresso. Training dogs, washing dishes. This is all helping somewhat. Then I think of how mundane it all is and is this what I want on my headstone? "He was a good housekeeper" or "He always keep the lawn nice" Shit.
Still this aching of having let myself down. Sleeping too late. Can't let the past go, not even for a minute. Can't move on, carry all this stuff with me. It just piles up. It all seems equal, that class I flunked, Sleeping in, letting the office yard go to seed, everything has the same weight and it is on me.
Christ I wish I could simply file it all away as "Gone forever" and move on. Get a life.
Then it's all so embarrassing. Weakness showing. Didn't cut it. Let everyone down, or worse, nobody was depending on me anyway. Maybe that's it. The loneliness.
The peaches are ripe.