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October 31, 2013
I am working on a ten-point scale for gauging my depression.
I think it's going to be something like:
1. All Fs, in a good way. Fine, fully functional, feeling fresh & frisky.
2. A bit tired. Things seem to have dulled a bit.
3. Fatigued, feelings a bit blunted.
4. The Ds: dodgy appetite, disturbed sleep, disgruntled, dissatisfied.
5. No motivation at all, craving for solitude, lack interest or enjoyment.
6. Completely numb, but weirdly functional. If you don't care, you can get a lot done.
7. Bitter. Hate everything--mostly me.
8. Negativity loop. Can't stop beating myself up.
9. Can't function. Sometimes crying is involved.
10. Complete hopelessness, suicidal ideation.
There is some overlap, naturally. Right now I'm about a 5.5.
I stayed home on Tuesday. I have an earache, and that is supposedly why I called in, but the real reason was that I woke up in the region of 8/9, called in, and went back to bed for another four hours. Then laid around the house in my nightgown for the rest of the day, too down to do much of anything.
It's Halloween. I didn't wear a costume at work, but I did don my pair of jack o'lantern earrings, since that was enough to get me a discount on my cafeteria breakfast. I had taken them off by 9:00; the French hooks poke me in the neck, and I wasn't feeling festive enough to put up with it. It's trick or treat here tonight--they changed it this year, after decades of doing it on Sunday afternoon. But it's dark and rainy and I just don't want to deal with it on a weeknight. We would probably not get many kids anyway, so I turned off the lights on the porch and in the living room and retired to the back of the house. B is happy to hunker in the dark with me.
Speaking of the dog--thank you very effing much, Spouse, for screwing up his eating habits. He was happy with the new food, right up until Spouse decided he needed a "treat" and bought him a container of expensive, wet food to spoon on top of the kibble. Apparently that stuff is amazing, because B instantly made up his mind that he would never eat the plain dry food again.
So. Every morning, I give him a scoop of dry kibble. He has from about 4:30 to 11:30 to decide if he wants to eat it. He generally refuses. When I get home at 4:30, then he can have a spoonful of the wet stuff on it, and he scarfs it and follows up with his serving of veggies.
I have no guilt, because he has ample opportunity to eat very high-quality dog food, and he turns up his spoiled nose. Well, that's his lookout. He is supposed to lose some more weight anyway. I would like to let him go hungry till he eats it dry, but Spouse refuses to allow that, so my bottom line is no more than one spoonful of wet food, once a day. No snacks or treats (OR PEOPLE FOOD) unless he has eaten what's in his bowl. Then, he can have a Dentastix chew to clean his teeth. I am not in any mood to negotiate.
Reading: The Wishing-Ring Man, when I feel like it. (Honestly, I am not getting very much reading done. Sitting alone in dark silence seems to be my main form of entertainment right now. If I am feeling particularly motivated, I will mindlessly push the "spin" button on a slot machine video game.)
Listening: Springsteen, Muse, Redbone, Alice Cooper (Halloween, so yeah.)
At Random:
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