I keep feeling like my life is spiraling out of control.

And maybe that’s not such a bad thing, in the long run. I’ve come to the conclusion that I have some serious “trying to control outcomes” issues, and maybe realizing that I am not in control of my life opens up a path to forgiving myself for said life.

It’s a work in progress.

I had today all planned out. I was going to get up, eat lunch, retrieve my check from our mailbox, take the bus to my bank, cash the check, do some grocery shopping, and then take a taxi home.

It’s only a five block trip, but I planned to buy frozen foods.

Oh, and I am very lazy.

Now, class, let us examine my plan for today and try to determine the probable cause of it failing and crashing my mood along with it.

Obviously, I got up. I ate lunch – that’s a fairly good bet on any day. I will volunteer that did no grocery shopping and hence did not take a taxi for any reason. I also didn’t get on a bus to go anywhere at all.

That leaves the retrieval of the check. That is our failure point. I went to get the check and it was not there. That brought the whole thing to a screeching halt, and took my mood down with it.

Because I was so up for this small adventure. I had eaten lunch, got myself dressed and put together, put my winter clothes on, grabbed the mail key, and headed out into the world to get some stuff done.

The check’s absence was so unexpected and random and arbitrary that it kicked the feet out from me. I still haven’t recovered and it’s been half a day. I really don’t handle the unexpected very well. Not when it comes out of nowhere like my lack of check.

I am worried that it has been stolen. That’s not just the depression talking. The check, if it arrived,  would have made it there Wednesday, and here I was not bothering to go get it until Saturday afternoon. That’s three whole days it sat there, and I have had a check stolen before, so I know that shit happens.

Now don’t worry, patient readers. Even if it did get stolen, there is no chance I will end up homeless because of it. Worst case scenario, I might end up having to fill out a form and go through some bureaucratic hoops to get my $$$.

Otherwise, it might be that all I have to do is call the welfare office and get some bit of administrivial machinery unstuck. It happens from time to time. Or it might be that the check will show up Monday, problem solved.

So while the missing check is a very annoying problem and somewhat devastating to me because of my own personal infirmities but in the long run it will not matter much.

But it still made my brain train derail. After days of depression, I was finally “up” and feeling good, and then the plug got pulled by this random fucking thing.

I really wish I didn’t take things like this so hard. But I do.

I haven’t used the booster doses of my antidepressants yet. My therapist prescribed them for me because my mood was so poor. The idea was that I would have some extra doses for days when I really wasn’t feeling well.

I have been a little reluctant to use them for reasons that are probably highly irrational. Like, I don’t want to take the extra Paxil because Paxil acts like an anesthetic for your emotions and I already feel way too numb.

I know that’s wrong, but so far, that hasn’t changed anything.

As for the extra Wellbutrin, I am worried that I will end up anxious. That’s what happens when you have more energy but the psychic machinery is not there to let that energy turn into a higher activity level.

I learned that from what happened to Felicity when she tried Wellbutrin.

That’s not really rational either. I mean, it’s a possibility, but it’s also possible that by boosting both the Paxil (anti-anxiety) and the Wellbutrin (energy unlocking), the two will balance each other out and I will ends up a happier and more focused and alive person.

That sounds so good. I have been feeling like I was one of the living dead lately, and not one that is keeping well at all.

I guess that it was happens when the depression gets bad enough. Being locked within yourself in a deep dark dungeon far from the light of the sun can do that to a person. Normal people have no idea how good they have it and how much their normalcy is underpinned by a stream of stimuli that keeps them together.

For us unlucky depressives, it can be like living in an eternal eclipse that is centered on you and nobody else. Other people are clearly fully alive and walk in the sunshine without giving it a second thought. And when you try to tell them what it is like to be you, they don’t understand. How could they? The sun has always shone on them.

I know the warmth and light is still there. After all, the sun never stops shining, even in the darkest of nights when the wolves of the mind prowl and our inner demons grow restless and yank at their chains.

Even then, the sun still shines on the other side of the world, and all we have to do is wait and it will come back again.

It’s just so hard to keep believe something when you don’t feel it. In the inner darkness of depression, the thought that all the light and love we need is out there beyond our reach is more painful than the finality of utter despair.

And so we choose to be believe that the light isn’t there.

Or at least, not there for the likes of us.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.