Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond (birdhousefrog) wrote,
Oz Whiston writing as Oz Drummond

Black and Blue

I am blue, I am blue, but this is nothing new.

I've changed the background to suit my mood. I'll change it back when my mood improves.

My foot continues to bother me, but not as painfully. J and I walked around a mall on a rainy night last night to give me some mild exercise. This was a big help, but for the rest of me more than for the foot. We had dinner at a Red Robin, something we used to do more than 25 years ago in Seattle, where they originated. The chain is not as good as the original. But it was amazing to eat a regular burger for the first time in I don't know how long. We agreed it had been more satisfying than any gourmet meal. First, it's mostly chicken and eggs for meat in this house. Second, burgers grilled at home are just not the same as the crazy creations in the restaurant.

Coming down from the amazing high of Capclave to this crushing low is hard. It's hormones, baby, all hormones. I've lived with the fluctuation for many years. I never know when it will hit harder. It got worse as I got older. Tears streaming over some minor thing at work, some mild constructive criticism. Mood jags that are incomprehensible. Sudden fits of anger. So I chart moods and dates and have a pretty good record, some of it going back to my college years. More recently, I chart all the time. My best defense is a rational assessment, talking to myself, telling myself to just go with the flow until things are better, don't take anything at your initial gut reaction to it.

So I sat here on Friday morning, tears streaming, wanting to crawl into my bed for the day. Certainly not wanting to write. But it was E's party at school, my day to have lunch with her. So I took a shower and put myself in the car, at the last minute of course. I put on the game face and hid what I was feeling.

Oddly enough, I discovered something. Hugs are very powerful things. E sat on my lap while a story was read to the class, hugging me as I hugged her. Instant feeling of being loved. A mom I had been room-mom with last year saw me in the hall and gave me a heartfelt hug. Instant feeling that I existed. I put my pillow inside J's arm and slept against his chest last night. I was not alone. And this morning, I curled up in a chair with blankets and pillows and E on my lap, J in the next chair, cats finding corners of the chairs and footstools, books and computers spread around us. Instant feeling of family. Every little bit helps while I'm riding this out.

And when I thought I wouldn't write anything yesterday, I did write something and it was movement, not just morning page garbage.

I'm clutching a thought about the light at the end of the tunnel. Another day of this at most. I can do this. This has been one of the worst jags ever. If I get the usual 24 hour headache on top of this, my misery will be complete.

Frog Out
Tags: me

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