A walk

A friend of mine is going to drive down the coast with her kids.

My favourite fantasy has been to drive down the coast and wind up in Corpus Christi, where I'll take off my clothes and walk into the gulf.

It's a grim fantasy, to be sure, but it still lives with me, like it's tattooed on my heart, in a fateful manner.

I don't like it. I like getting out of bed when everyone is still asleep and cleaning the kitchen before the sun comes up, having coffee at the ready when they all wake up. I like oatmeal for lunch, I like getting everything I need to get done before 1pm. I like accomplishing the little things, insignificant things that add up.

I fear I'm not good enough at the little things, or I don't get enough of them done to make any difference. I started running again, again, little bits, but hopefully it, too, will add up.

The grindy thing about mood disorders is the down side, after all the up has been spent. The doubts that crowd out belief, instead of encouraging it with healthy questions.