Monday, July 5, 2010
Attack of the black dog and other metaphors
This happens to me from time to time. It usually lasts a few days, maybe a week, then fades away, leaving me to pick myself up from the floor, dust myself off, and get back to things. I wonder if it's better to give in to it when I know it's coming. I fought it off last week with fair success until the weekend, at which point I was swallowed by the wave, pushed underwater to tumble and spin in the fury of my own emotional turmoil. I know I'll resurface in a little while, but in the meantime it's oh so easy to get down on myself for not writing/painting/working/cleaning/whatever.
Maybe I just need a few mental health days. Am I allowed? The black dog says no. But it's easy for him to make decisions from his position square on my back. Would someone please throw a stick for him to fetch or something? Honestly, it's old already.