...things now that bear a weighty and a serious brow. For me at least. I'm subject now and then to periods of the gloomies, black dog days, and the present black mutt is a vicious bastard. At work I do my usual passable imitation of a calm, unflappable sort of bloke, although I might not be doing it quite as well as I think this time, and showing signs of curmudgeonliness. In my inner world, I feel like the blindfold prisoner of unknown captors with unknown intentions, and I alternate periods of gloom with spells of wall-climbing paranoia, guts rolling, heart speeding. For ten days, pretty much the only emotions I have known are anxiety and anger. I attacked an averagely dumb US You Tube christer with almost undergraduate viciousness the other day, deservedly eliciting an angry, hurt response that made me feel quite a heel. The poor sod had no idea he was being beaten up on by one mildly, temporarily unhinged. (However, 'Voice of God', you really are a fucking whack job and I feel no contrition for cremating you. So there.) Concentration is nigh impossible as my head is clogged and dusty as a hoover bag and oddly, worryingly, I feel as though I know nothing: can't implement basic teaching skills, can't remember what I read or assemble my thoughts: everything I attempt just confuses me.
It really is a right pain in the arse.
It's more than twenty years since I last had medication for depression, which was probably caused by a long bout of glandular fever. In those days, Happy Pills did little other than dehydrate you, causing unquenchable thirst and the sort of constipation the Victorians thought led to depression in the first place - nothing a day on the Syrup of Figs and a good brimstone and carbolic enema wouldn't sort out. So, tired of spitting feathers and passing shrapnel, I slung them down the bog and sat out the depression until it blew over. I understand the modern generation of Happy Pills actually work in the short term, and am pondering whether to petition my GP for some. I dunno. There are immutable, real world reasons for my feeling like this, although I'm over-reacting to them absurdly. The irritating thing is that I know this, but that doesn't alter the feeling that I'm being stalked by a maniac.
Anyway, this explains the lack of blogs recently, and may explain a lack of blogs to come for a while. I've discovered that whenever I predict a lull in blogging, it never happens, so making this public might well disperse the gloom.