The Depression Hits Again

One of the things I struggle with with my depression is the future, and not feeling like I'm worth anything. 99% of the time I feel like I'm a waste of space and that there's not point of me existing. I see nothing ahead of me. No future, no plan, no purpose.

Working on this book, and this trip, has changed that. For the past few days, while I've been plotting the route and researching things to do in each city and creating the blog, I've been in a good mood. Not giddy and hyper (which I get occasionally), but an actual positive, optimistic, hopeful good mood.

It didn't even fade when I got a semi-nasty comment on my blog yesterday morning. It didn't fade when the mint chocolate brownies I'd spent hours making turned out to be a fail. The trip/book was bigger than my depression.

For a while.

This morning I woke up and couldn't face getting out of bed. I reset my alarm for a few hours later and went back to sleep. Then I did the same thing again. When I finally actually woke up I lay staring at the ceiling for half an hour. If I hadn't needed to use the bathroom, I'd probably still be staring at the ceiling. I still feel like I have a plan, but I'm in the part of my depression that gives me no desire to do anything. There are lots of household chores that need doing, and I downloaded a recipe for donuts, and I have emails to sort, and a Ravelry group to moderate, and crochet/knit/embroidery projects to work on. And I don't want to do any of it.

I'm not sure what I want to do.