For the past month I’ve been in this funk and I have done everything I usually do to try and get myself out. I typically have this “down” state after a cycle of being really wound up and anxious but in the past I have always able to get myself out of it.
Some of the things I usually do to wean myself out of this phase include being with friends, sleeping in, and generally trying to take good care of myself but nothing has been working. When in the company of friends I haven’t been as social or talkative. When I sleep in all I want to do is continue sleeping and my aversion to leaving the bed has nothing to do with being lazy.
My mom suggested that I try going back to speaking with a psychologist and/or psychiatrist but I haven’t done that in four years. I have an aversion to medicine related to my mental state because I’ve had poor reactions to them in the past and I’ve seen others be affected poorly too. However I think that stress compounded with my anxiety disorder is starting to have a negative impact on my physical health. There has been this odd pain in my jaw (it also cracks when I open my mouth) for the past 2 months and I have no idea what is causing this. Also while more related to my frequent use of computers - I think I’m starting to develop carpal tunnel pains in my right forearm.
So I’m just putting this out there but what do you do when you’re in a funk? Is there anything in particularly that you do to make yourself more cheerful? If you have any suggestions I’d love to hear them via tumblr, my ask box, or on twitter. I’m going to compile a list and try them all out if I can.
He hums a few bars of Nickelback and I’m helpless, trussed up and pressed into his brother’s old futon from university. Christian sighs.
“I’m damaged, Ana. You just don’t get it. I was born to a successful pediatrician …”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so—”
“… in Winnipeg.”
“Oh. Oh, Christian. I’m so sorry.
My intrepid eyes cast around Christian’s Rec Room of Pain and across his many instruments of torture: the ball gag, the whip, the black gadget that with the press of a single button turns on the cruelest device of all: the television. Sportsnet, TSN … Oh Christian, stop teasing and turn it to CBC for the Leafs game! The chronic incompetence … the annual ritual of false hope … such delicious pain!
Christian frowns at me.
“Do you like my beaver?”
“Sure, but it looks a little small next to the stuffed caribou,” I say.
“Damn rodent put up a hell of a fight. I still say it was worth losing my leg.”
He picks up a riding crop and limps over. I can feel a stirring deep within me, somewhere beneath my snow pants. This feels so different than the last time, so vital, so carnal, so … wait, is that the “Coach’s Corner” theme?
Suddenly, Christian is on top of me. He forces something into my mouth. It’s firm, so very hard. I curl my tongue around it and instantly recognize its elegant contours.
I’m currently on my 3rd cup of tea and I’m still feeling tired. I am not looking forward to the hour long TTC ride home later tonight and then waking up at 7:30am tomorrow. I’m just being whiny but at least I’m re-reading my work emails to make sure I’m not making typos!
I’m having a real day of it. There was something I had to do. But what? There are no alternatives, just the one something. I have a drink, it doesn’t help—far from it! I feel worse. I can’t remember how I felt, so perhaps I feel better. No. Just a little darker. If I could