I slept most of yesterday. Dwana called at one point, having a lot going on herself, and my phone ran out of time in the middle of the conversation, so I walked over there. It had the effect of getting me out of bed. We couldn't really spend much time together--they were on their way to church--but we chatted for about a half hour and then they dropped me off at Mist Lake Plaza so I could get some more minutes on my cell phone at the Shell station there. Since I couldn't remember the last time I ate, I went over to Rocco's Pizza, watched the news, and ate the buffet.
When I headed back I got a little disoriented--I thought that the other side of Mist Lake would take me out about right at Man O'War to get home, but it actually heads towards Mt. Tabor and doesn't swing back in the right direction. I'm out of practice as a pedestrian, the longest walks lately being on a treadmill. I also found a back parking lot to the shopping centre I'd never noticed, at a break in the corner, and curiosity sent me that way, although in retrospect walking around the back of a large building along a wooded area was not good survival skills for a woman alone. You could tell that people lived, at least at night, there in the windbreak...beer cans, clothes, even a bike were hidden in there. Eventually, after taking the street (which I now realise is the same as Patchen (why can't they keep the same name?; here in Lexington every time you cross a major road they change names) up to Mt. Tabor and realising my error, I headed back. But it was a pleasant walk, through a suburb full of people who obviously had pride in their homes and gardens.
By the time I got home, my knees hurt and I just felt so tired, and I went into bed and collapsed, wishing someone could rub my feet. It was such a small walk, I've done plenty of it in my time--the key is that the depression made it so much harder.
And it was depression. Depression and exhaustion. In retrospect, I've been mildly depressed for awhile, and a little worse the last few days--I thought that was because of being sick, but the letter from the transportation cabinet just seemed the final blow that sent my plummeting. I think I'd been running on reserves too long and just collapsed. That's not so long, not enough to be a trend or to worry about. But it's been damnably hard to do anything. I know this because I've experienced it before and have loved ones who have battled it for years. Once I went to sleep, I was pretty much gone to the world until about 4 am. Just like I used to be. Just like they do. That's one way to put it...gone. I don't like that feeling. This, despite being on Paxil for OCD.
But now, I feel a little like I'm coming out of my funk. My first impetus was to do a little cleaning, feed the animals, and that's good. I have a ride to the game tomorrow, and so I think I can put my all into it. I had a dream about gaming, of all things in the hospital library, and at some point I walked over to the gaming store (ah, dreams, it's on the other side of town completely!), where I looked over some coins that someone had collected--not major numistics, mind you, but just the type you get from travels or sometimes find in your change and exchanged some of my own for these older or foreign ones. I've done this before. They were pennies that had silver inserts, many of them commemorating another person. There was also a stone, in the shape of a Roman God's face--I'm not sure which, although it was male, with a beard and long curly hair. It was rather worn and old. I could feel a deep power emanating from the stone.
I don't know what that means. Every thing I've read suggests that dreaming of coins, silver, gaming, etc., are all positive omens, but I don't know if I believe any of those supposed guides. I do feel more driven, though. Unfortunately, I think I've expended more energy than I had, so I'm going back to sleep for a bit, this time, hopefully, for normal rest rather than depressed escape.
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