After several wonderful months of being depression free, it suddenly hit on Monday afternoon. At first I thought it had come out of nowhere but on reflection I can see it had been building for a few weeks. The house was gradually getting messier, my appearance becoming less important, being more tired, more critical of myself, crying all the time. I easily brushed it aside as just being busy, genuinely believing the criticism was necessary and emotional about the divorce.

But when it hit, there was no mistaking it. It’s like I just freeze. I can’t move, think or speak. It’s like someone puts me on standby mode. I’m not quite off, but definitely not on either. Everything becomes fuzzy, I feel completely detached, like I’m dreaming, not really there and participating with the world. It feels like I am only occupying the top part of the back of my head. That sounds silly unless you’ve experienced it. 

Today I’m too scared to do anything. Too scared to call anyone, to go outside, to take my journal down to the park, to eat, to even think about finding a house, sorting the divorce, how long it’s going to take me to get over it this time.