Since I last wrote a post:
I have done lot at work (though I have not been working an 80-hour week and I have, for the most part, refused to feel guilty for that)
I have been exercising regularly
I have made some new friends
I have been on some dates
I have spent time talking with friends and family who are having difficult times of their own and offering as much support as I can
I have rediscovered reading for pleasure
I have levelled with myself about how much sleep I actually need and done my best to get that amount
I have made it all the way through September – shortening days, wind, rain, and all – without sinking.
I have reached the point where all of the stuff I’ve been doing to distract myself from my depression is starting to look like a normal and healthy life. The fiction I have constructed about being a functioning adult is getting hard to disentangle from reality. My depression hasn’t vanished, but it’s been in the background rather than dominating the landscape.
(My flat is still a mess.)
I go to see Neil again in three days.