Sunday After The Week Before

It's almost exactly a week to the very minute since I discovered I'd been robbed - part of a series of events which has got me to today. We could all say that, but there have been things I've had to admit this week which have been difficult. I wrote about them in the last blog and I'll continue the theme through this piece. They are all relevant and Friday's post really did only half of the thing justice.

It's been a very difficult week and a half really as it all began on Thursday of the week before. I'd had a big argument with a friend of mine and we decided to meet up and clear the air. A good day was had but by the end I'd gone way deeper into myself than is really healthy for me. I explained (and in some ways) faced up to the inner self - the place I never go - and a place people aren't supposed to go and see. It all got a bit emotional, as I said in previous post. When I tried explaining in an e-mail it all kind of came out wrong and so, it would seem, we're not likely to be talking ever again. I feel a terrible sense of loss about this. The odd thing is, it's made me talk to people.

There's an old addict's truism which says that you can't fix a problem unless you first admit it. I've talked to a few people this week about the stuff behind what I write here in the blog - ironically neither of the people who I spoke to have had the time to read all of this. The Tuesday one set the alarm bells ringing, and all the people who have been in touch have been amazing. On Friday I went out and saw a friend of mine DJing and had a very nice time indeed. I had a long talk with an old friend about lots of things and was able to be honest about what was happening. I'd done the same thing on Thursday with another friend of mine. So yesterday morning I woke up for the first time in ages and actually wanted to get up and not think, "what's the point?", pull the duvet over my head and try and go back to sleep. I had a friend come see me for dinner last night and we talked a lot about each other's difficulties. He's got lots of problems too, and it gave me a new perspective on mine which was useful too.

I'm going to concede that the next step is seeing a doctor. I don't actually want to be medicated in any way, but I do want to look at talking to someone more about the way my depression is working, how it's affecting me, and what I can do about fixing some of the faulty wires inside my head which are causing it. All of this is very scary stuff and involves going places, far from the here and now and properly facing them, not putting them in a box and carrying on as if nothing really happend. I'm beginning to realise that this is the only way I'll get through this, find another job and be at peace. The darkness is still there, and capable of descending like a fog, paralyzing me.

It's odd, when I started this I wanted to document the trials of job hunting in a time of recession. I should have known, like my life has always been, that it could never be that simple.