Down

I'm feeling down. I just had an amazing 2 days. I just experienced a lot of life. I had a good time. I spent quality time with an amazing friend. I laughed and smiled and joked and talked and talked. And I'm feeling down.

It's the pain. I'm down because I hurt. The same hurt as always. the hurt I don't talk about to anyone, except when it's really bad. I cause it myself, with the way I eat, the way I live and treat my body. I just want normal. So I act like it's normal. I take the medicines that usually work, I do what I want. Most of the time it's ok. The dull aching pain is something I can deal with. But other times, my body reminds me how much it hates me. Like now.

So in all the amazing that was the entire weekend and into this week, I am depressed. It compounds, so I begin to think about other things, and that depresses me more. So I sit here, writing this, and doing a damn fine job of self-depression.

It will pass. The pain will keep me up tonight and it will fade with the morning. I'll have a picky paranoid view of food for a day or two and then the worry and the pain will subside to it's usual place in my stomach as a dull roar.

So I could write about all the things bothering me. I could ramble about the things i'm depressing myself with. Or I could just skip all the secondary reasons and get right to the facts. I hurt.

I just want to curl up into a ball and fucking cry like a child. As sappy and ridiculous as it sounds, that's what this pain does to me. It makes me a weeny, a pansy ass. It makes me remember things I don't care to remember and feel things I can't stand feeling. Emotions, memories and physical discomfort are so linked that it threatens to drive me over the cliff I stand on called my sanity.

From the top of a cliff, the most obvious direction is always the same. Down.