Okay, there are no crustaceans in this post. Except now I have to put one in because I feel compulsive.
Today began well enough, but by seven this morning, I felt myself slipping down, down, down. I tried to fend it off by going to a local coffee shop, where I promptly consumed two-and-a-half cups of some of the best coffee in town. I came to regret that later.
When I got home, my downward slide continued, but I thought, It’s just depression. If anyone can deal with it, you can. You had two normal days, so now it’s time to deflate. You learned about this last night. Breathe, focus on one thing at a time, and you’ll be fine.
But I wasn’t fine; I was suddenly shaking all over. I couldn’t get my hands to behave, and I started pacing and muttering to myself. The van was at the mechanic’s, so my wife picked me up to take me to my Friday appointment with Katie. “I haven’t had anything,” I assured her on the phone, “but I can’t stop shaking and I’m going to talk up a blue streak.”
And so I did, and I continued blathering on when I got to Katie’s office. As I recounted my morning, she asked how much coffee I had. I lied at first, because that’s generally my first reaction, and then I told her how much coffee I’d had. “But that can’t be it,” I said. “I didn’t have coffee for two days, so I really wanted some, and–”
“Whoa,” Katie said, “back up. You didn’t have coffee for two days?”
“Yeah, we were out. I had decaf because I like the ritual, Anyway, I got this email that I think–”
Katie sighed. “You can’t go from no coffee in two days to as much as you had. No wonder you’re flipping out. You’ve got to cut that out for a while.”
I told Katie I’d go back to tea in the morning, which isn’t exactly the same, but it’ll do for now. Once I got back home again, my jitters were gone, and I settled into a fog of melancholy. I tried to get out of it by keeping busy and exercising, but after that I wrote a depressing-ass song and then fired up my sad list on Spotify. Naturally
And now I’m just here. The boy’s playing a video game. I’m a sober but sad sack. I’ll go to a meeting tonight and see if that helps. If not, no big deal. I’m not hopeless…but I sure don’t feel good.