It’s Monday evening and you are on the bus home. You’ve had a good time at work, you’ve laughed with your friends, dealt competently with your job and have walked to the bus stop in glorious, about-time-July’s-nearly-over-sunshine.
You have a post written (it’s not that good, forget about that part) and are going to transfer it from Word onto your blog as soon as you get home.
It’s been a good day.
Then something, just one thing, one tiny insignificant moment of your day creeps under the tent of your content like a wasp under the tent of, well, a camper. It stings.
The tiny incident – a look, a word, even a silence, becomes less tiny. It becomes a slight, or a threat, a problem. You are now in trouble.
You invent scenarios that will never happen, could never happen. In your head you carry on full conversations in which you are angered, or disappointed, or just plain hurt. Or you provoke these in the other person.
You know this is all rubbish. You try to think positively, to use common sense, you tell yourself to stop being a horrendous gobshite, but it’s too late. A black cloud now covers the sunshine of the real world.
It’s no longer a good day.
You reach home. You don’t bother with the blog-post, you don’t bother with your dinner, you go to bed. It is six-thirty in the evening.
It’s Tuesday evening now, and I am on the bus home. Today there was no slight, threat or problem. There was no rabidly offensive conversation. There was another day like Monday was, remarkably unremarkable.
You, my friends who come here, sometimes wonder at my imagination. It does indeed take me to the most amazing, fun-filled places, and I wouldn’t give it up for the world.
But sometimes it’s a real pain in the arse.
Worth Doing Badly 
Did you watch Ruby Wax on TV last night? I felt it was a shame she used ‘mad’ in the title, but on the whole I thought it was an interesting programme about how mental illness / depression and the like should be bought out into the open more. I’d be interested to hear what you think.
http://www.radiotimes.com/episode/rhrck/ruby-waxs-mad-confessions
Yup.
In fairness, Pseu, sometimes it does feel a bit mad. If you’re Ruby Wax, you deal with things confrontationally. I think, to give her the benefit of the doubt, there’s probably a certain method to the madness.
Oh dear. Sorry about the black cloud spoiling everything. I bet the early night did you good, though and that normal (fun) service will be resumed as soon as possible. (You’re much to young to remember that announcement which would appear on the screen at the slightest broadcasting hiccup)
I have no words, but know I care!
It is s easy to let the bad stuff take over, isn’t it? I do precisely the same thing. Perhaps we all do? Hope this evening was a good one.
The best of armor has chinks – but what’s underneath has strength of its own.
It’s one dog that’s definitely not man’s best friend, Tinman
You have full conversations in your head as well, Tinman? Sometimes I’d like to tell those carrying out those conversations in my head if they would kindly just Shut.The.Front.Door.
I am sure sorry.
Sending you virtual hugs, though at a respectable distance. I know how much you love Mrs Tin.
Mostly I’m not a fan of CBT (cognitive behaviour therapy), but this does sound like a good case for some selective application of it. Hope you’re feeling better by now.
I used to have the same thing happen. I would go to bed at night and the black dog would strike at about 2am. What a way to lose sleep.
Thank you for your visit to my site, Tinman. I appreciate the compliment.
That old BD is a bit of gypsy, he does get around. I play host – more infrequently than I used to but still.
You have my sympathy. Do not feed the bugger. He’ll skulk off.
XO
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