COVID-19 Journal: Day 271a

I'm ok. I feel better today. You know when a scab comes off when the skin underneath is very tender and new but also sealed and ready? It's a bit like that. You can just feel that the black dog has wandered off. It was a big thing to learn that you will eventually feel better even when you're in a depressive bout.

Plus I made Nigella's giant pot of lemony chicken orzo thing for linner-duncheon and it was comfort in a pot. And there's about six litres of it left.

And I had a Magnum for afternoon tea.

Raspberry Magnum in flight

I mean, all of the problems I was overly stressed about are still there, but, I'm not freaking out about them. I can be calm about it. Depression plus anxiety is a real fucker. It's like running in one place. I think normally I operate with low level anxiety - I'm a worrier, like my Dad. When that combines with depression, the things to worry about all get a million times possibly worse and I get stuck, and woeful. I can quite often hide it all, but occasionally it squeaks out, like crying yesterday on the street, or with particular people. I sort of feel like I need to make amends sometimes, since I can be very irrational in times like this. If the plan that I'd carefully laid out whilst worrying about everything doesn't come to pass, that's deeply upsetting and I can't really handle it being different to what I'd expected. It's disquieting knowing this is likely to get worse as I get older.

Maybe we need a badge like Baby on Board for when you're leading the Black Dog around.