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Thursday, October 17, 2013

one day at a time

I don't have a good excuse for why I haven't been writing here. Reasons, yes: I have been busy, I have been micro-blogging in tweets instead, I simply haven't anything new to ponder over. Apart from trivial things, I have nothing substantial to put in paragraphical sequence.

Maybe, I have been less melancholic, and thus less creative. We all know poets have a high rates of depression and suicide, and if I am less so, I am less creative with my words.

So, what do I feel? It feels like maintenance mode for me most days. I am pulling through flu' bugs and gastric problems, I am getting by on a daily basis and not thinking too far beyond each day. I set goals for work, fitness and diet, and try my best to achieve them. Every bedtime I reset the clock and go through it all again at dawn. The aim is to survive and be as fruitful as possible despite my limitations. It is all very boring.

I haven't been sleeping well. I wake up in the middle of the night, or very early in the morning. When the flu' bugs hit, I become very weak and lethargic, double whammy, since I am not completely rid of the somnolence that depression causes to begin with.

As of right now, I have been up since 4am, I have exercised and had a somewhat healthy breakfast. I am about to start my work for the cats for the day. Do I look forward to bedtime tonight already? Yes. Between all that, I have my psychiatrist appointment. I will be going cycling today, via commute to and from the doctor's. If there could be no repercussions I would rather be in bed the entire day. I feel nothing much, my mood is the usual 3 out of 10, 10 being very happy and 0 being suicidally depressed.

The paragraphs above sum up the days since I last wrote here. That is all, nothing much to it. I believe writing should go beyond informing, and should inspire.

What does this report inspire, then? That, like in Alcoholics Anonymous, we who are infirmed inside should take it One Day At A Time. Like cardiavascular exercise, it strengthens our muscles, in this case our brain, to form good habits, that will make it easier to do each day we repeat it. We might never feel happy doing any of this, but it makes us that bit stronger. Despite being handicapped, we can be strong again.  Just as someone who uses a wheelchair would have stronger arm and finger muscles than one who, all things remaining equal, walks for mobility, we as the mentally weakened can strengthen ourselves just by repeat each day with a good habit. Just pick one. Sleep hygiene improvement, exercise, feeding the pets, writing. It doesn't matter. And if we fail that day, it doesn't matter too. There will be tomorrow. Most likely, anyway, we aren't that lucky to die and be rid of this all so easily innit.

Yes, another final reason why I haven't been writing, is perhaps the interest for it hasn't been on fire. Anhedonia, the simple explanation. But, writing is not my only interest, and I can turn to other things that seem easier to ignite interest in further, for now. We cannot change our core so easily, so if I love writing, it is not likely to just go away, chemical imbalance in the brain or not.

I will see you tomorrow if you are on Twitter, and then, we can go through the cycle again. One good habit a day, a day at a time. It doesn't matter if it makes us happy, if you are like me, nothing will make you happy. But it will make you a tad stronger even if you feel nothing.