I checked out for the day

Suzy died December 30th. January was like a fog, I barely remember it. Then my mother died in February, and that was a blur, too. By April, I was pretty depressed, and had lots of days where I couldn’t get out of bed. Not doing well at all. Towards the end of June, I came to realize the depression could be temporarily overcome if I got out and did something.

So, boy did I do stuff. For over three months, I packed something into every spare minute. A bago here, a bago there, trip to NY, baseball games, an air show, motorcycle rides, running, charity events, work socials, cookouts, geocaching, retail therapy, long phone calls, target practice, visits from friends, visits to friends. All of it sandwiched around an ongoing series of stressful deadlines at work, and all designed to keep me out ahead of the depression and pain. And for the most part, it worked pretty darn well.

Today, though, I ran out of gas. I was simply too tired to face work. Exhausted is probably a better description than tired. So I called in sick and did absolutey nothing all day. I take that back. I did one thing. I sat quietly and read. And I felt pretty good about it all, and fairly relaxed. Maybe the depression isn’t as close behind me as I thought. Maybe I can slow down a little bit and take things at a more gentle pace. After my trip to Phoenix in a couple weeks, I guess.