Drifting

I'm feeling... aimless.  I had a strong, carefully composed plan to go and collect three railway stations for my other blog.  I planned the route, got the train times, was all set up to go.  And then I was hit by this big stack of indifference.  A whole world of ennui.  Suddenly the idea of leaving the house - of leaving my bed even - just became too difficult.  The Bf has now gone out to see his friends, as he had planned to do anyway, and I've crept back under the duvet to type this.

This is the part of the illness I hate the most - the apathy.  Being depressed, and being miserable, is one thing.  Depression also drains colours from your world.  I've likened it to the Dementors in Harry Potter - the way they can just suck the joy from you.  Not caring is kind of difficult to get to grips with.

Collecting railway stations and writing my blog are two of my favourite things.  They give me a real lift.  And as I'm lying here, I'm thinking, maybe I should have gone out, but the moment (and the train) has gone.  I'm still here.


Ach, I'm self obsessed and over-dramatic.  The plus side of not getting the stations today is that I can do it another day.  The plus side of not doing it today is I can do some proper writing while I'm on my own.  The plus side of not doing it today is I can go out in the week.  This is all good.  

Stop bloody moaning man.  Think happy thoughts!