dark cloud approaching

S said that several of his closest friends in life struggle with depression. I am one of them. When I first met him, I didn't know this about myself, I just thought there was something wrong with me, that I was moody at times, and unpredictably so. Well, there is something wrong with me. It's called depression; it comes like a storm front, like a slow-moving dark cloud that I can sense but don't really understand. As I've gotten older -- really in the last five years or so, since my Great Depression -- I've been able to recognize the change in me as it's happening (or directly after), but still haven't figured out any method for thwarting the episode, the way I supposedly have for thwarting panic attacks -- tapping constantly on my sternum, which rarely works, but it's all I have so I still employ it.

Yesterday was I think the first time I recall being aware of the transition from okay state to state of depression. I worked all day, had plans last night to take P out to see the housing project at M&J's, and then dinner. I was hungry when I picked her up at 7, but we went on to M&J's so we could see the containers before dark and so we could hang out with them a little bit before little P's bedtime.

When P called me at 5 I told her I was weary -- and I was -- but just assumed it was from working hard staring at the computer all day, and assured her I was still up for our evening together. Partly I believed that was true, but I also didn't want to set her to asking me questions if I said I wasn't up for going out, or said I was too weary or whatever; I didn't want to have to try to answer the questions, then or later. I have this self-preservation tactic of telling people I'm perfectly find (if I'm just a little off) because I've found that peoples' questioning sets me off in a weird way, frustrates me because I don't know how to respond, and then I tend to become defensive. S has pointed this out on more than one occasion, referring to the fact that when I become quiet, people see me as different from my "normal" state and question it, and I get defensive.

Questions seem to be at the heart of it, having to expose myself, or being asked to explain myself when I'm in a state of uncertainty. I probably should have stayed home last night. P is a naturally inquisitive person, and she seems to want to get "at the heart of things," which likely comes from her work as a social worker (or perhaps is her normal state and that's why she became a social worker). I tried to answer her questions as noncommittally as possible, but felt the defensiveness rising to the surface when she asked how my heart and soul were, questions I don't really understand when I'm in the best of moods.

On top of that, I had eaten a very small lunch and it was after 9 by the time we had dinner, so by 8:30 or so, as we were driving around unsuccessfully trying to find a restaurant, I was feeling clammy and grumpy and pretty antisocial, yet P was being her usual inquisitive self and I felt myself shrinking into a corner. Finally, she said, "You seem kind of pissy tonight," which was kind of a steam valve release on my emotional state. I stumbled through not the most eloquent or friendly explanation of what I was going through, and after a wounded moment or two, P smiled and I smiled and we stepped off of the minefield and back onto the main path, so to speak. But the damage was already done, and I think we both were a little bruised by the experience.

I dropped her off and came home exhausted but unable to sleep. I sat on the porch and smoked a cigarette; I smoked a bowl; I lay awake in bed for an hour then got up and took a shower. Finally I drifted off to sleep somewhere around 1:30, then woke up at 7 and lay there in a half-live state. I couldn't go back to sleep so I rolled out of bed at 7:30, worked for a couple of hours, then fell on the bed in tears. I pictured myself as one of those desk knick-knacks, the clear plastic rectangle with half blue water and half clear oil that tips back and forth to simulate waves. During the time I was awake and working, I felt groggy, dizzy, like water was splashing around inside of me; my feet were heavy. When I lay down, the wave rolled up to my head and splashed out of my eyes. Something like that. I had some negative thoughts about myself for awhile then fell asleep and woke again at 11.

I feel a little better now -- more rested -- but I can still feel the presence of my little black cloud hanging over me. I'm gonna have to wait it out.