I went to bed pretty early last night and woke up right before my alarm went off. I was already feeling more depressed than usual (I don’t know why), so I got out of bed and took a walk around the block. Less than a mile, but the air was crisp and the sky was overcast and everything felt congruous with my mood. (Plus I read an email from a friend about “fat girl fetishes” before I even got out of bed, and feel that I need to work on not being so fat.)
So lately, I’ve had little desire to be social at all. It’s possible that I just don’t feel like expending the energy necessary to plan or think about social outings – after all, I was pretty sociable this weekend. I can just picture myself turning into a middle-aged miser who goes to work and then sits around the house reading or watching TV. This is extremely easy to picture, actually, because currently most of my weekdays consist of going to work, and then sitting around the house reading and watching TV.
This morning, while I was still in bed, I had a flashback to when I was living on campus at Lipscomb. I had forgotten that I used to get depressed there. I had no friends and no car, and even though I could walk to Green Hills I really only did that to go to the grocery store or the Donut Den. Plus I felt ugly and fat most of the time, and I never had any money. I definitely had some good days – I remember how I used to open the window in the dorm as far as I could, and watch Harold and Maude to make myself feel better….or the many times I would wrap up in my cloak and take a carafe of hot water plus a mug to a deserted place on campus to read. But…the depression I experienced then was circumstancial, and when I moved to West End I don’t remember it lingering.
I know that whatever depression I feel now is also circumstantial and I don’t expect it to linger for years, or anything. I’d very much like to get rid of it, though.
No Promises This Time 