I made it through Valentine’s Day and, I think, the worst of this current depression. I had to navigate death-thoughts for a while, which is my signal to engage in some serious distraction. So, I dug money out of my emergency stash, drove to Des Moines, and camped out at the cinema multiplex. Once I paid my $6.50, I roamed from theater to theater and ended up seeing two lame movies—The Woman in Black and The Journey 2. Meh.
When the depression is overwhelming, like it was yesterday, quality doesn’t matter as much as quantity. I need something to keep my forebrain occupied for an extended period of time. It’s like feeding a toddler by flying the spoon around like an airplane. The depression can’t look at the pretty pictures and make me miserable at the same time. Driving home in the dark, I felt exhausted, but calmer.
This morning I woke up after three hours of sleep—insomnia being another one of depression’s gifts. But the agitation I experienced yesterday is milder. Today will be easier to manage. Unless, of course, it isn’t. Toddlers can be so unpredictable. I may have to use hand puppets.