Monster

7:11 a.m.

It seems as if I blinked my eyes and fall blazed up. Friday I took Monk jogging and the field we run across was still Wyoming's gray version of green. Yesterday morning the field was yellow and rusty brown, the grass was thin, the color of everything once alive matched Monk's fur. Tumbleweeds have been rolling clumsily down our street, getting caught under cars and tangled against fences.

It felt good to be out in the field, to feel the chill of the wind push against the numbness in my brain. The dust and emptiness inside were briefly stirred, cleared away to corners. I deeply breathed in leaf-scented air, and felt normal as I listened to the jingling of Monk's collar and the sound of thousands of leaves pattering to the street.

I know it's not amusing when I talk about feeling sad, but it's what I'm dealing with now. Yesterday Justin asked me "Why aren't you happy?" and later "Why can't you smile?" and I didn't know the answers. I just. Didn't know. I know I'm satisfied with my job, I love him and our animals and our future, I like our house and the idea of living here another year isn't scary anymore. I have a few really good friends, major life decisions are falling into place. I just feel generally sad and empty. I've felt sad since that morning, and although I know the hormones have settled and I don't feel as if I have the right to be sad about that event any longer, I still am. It was probably just the trigger, the event that started what will hopefully be a brief relapse, a short and comparatively mild depressive episode.

It is somewhat terrifying to realize that even when things are going perfectly well in my life, depression can still raise its ugly head, that it's not dead and buried forever. It's been about 18 months since I felt this sad, and it's been about 24 months since I've felt this sad for more than a week. Thirty-six months, maybe? (Maybe more? I can't remember) since I took the last antidepressant. I really thought it wouldn't recur if I kept everything stable, if everything was happy. I really thought it was all about the bad bullshit that used to exist in my life.

At least, though, at least. At least I know when the monster does crawl out of its hole, it won't stay out forever. And I know I can battle it, I know it's not nearly as big and strong as it used to be. I know to keep getting out of bed, no matter how impossible it seems. I know I won't keep crying everyday, that eventually the crying in the shower and crying when alone at work and crying when driving will stop. I know how to take care of myself, how to eat and exercise and how to keep with a healthy routine. I have people who love me. They love me a lot. Things will be okay.

Okay, okay.

I have to get ready for work.

Sorry this wasn't funny, but. You know.

Here's something fun! To end with!

This is apparently what Justin does to the dog after I'm asleep at night. You know. Tucks him in. I love my little family.

So much.


































Love,
black sheep