The Depressive Question

Hey folks. Apologies - another mad week. "Write Blog" has been on the List of Stuff To Do every day of the last week, but has never actually made the leap to the internet.

Anyhow - the write-off of the last entry spread into a full week of calorific debauchery, which is why at Tuesday's weigh-in saw me at a truly head-pounding 19st 2.75 - up about a half-stone, or seven pounds.

Two of my pals from different sections of my life who've spoke to me this week have said "I reckon you're depressed."
Could be. Don't know. Ultimately though, if I'm honest, I don't have time to be depressed. Said as much to Ma.
"Errr...yes," she said. "That's rather the point..."

Have been displaying what could be symptoms, to be fair - not tidying the flat, so living in a slowly-growing landscape of crap, and a beard that was supporting its own ecosystem, focusing on short-term gratification at the expense of longer-term trouble.

It's funny - comedian Craig Ferguson mentions my sort of person on his latest DVD. "People who say 'Oh yes, I'm an addict'...and you go 'Oh yeah, what's your thing?', and they say 'Chocolate.' Excuse me - you're not an addict, you're judt an idiot.'"

Now, far be it from me ever to deny my own idiocy. Let my idiocy stand as read.
But I have to take issue with Craig on this. Different substances have different impacts if taken to excess - alcohol, you fall down eventually and snore, cocaine, you tale like an ass for a few hours and look like you're on fast forward. Crack, your heart pretty much explodes. Weed, you get mellow and really hungry. Food, you physically ostracise yourself, probably get diabetes, heart disease, strokes and die. The symptoms of addiction differ depending on your substance of choice. But the wiring in the brain that urges towards self-harm - The Lemming Factor, as I think about it - is the same acorss the board. You're not actually addicted to the substance, but to the chemical and psychological changes the substance brings about.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that this week, I've looked more like an addict than normal, the flat growing shabby around me, my beard straggly, my compulsion towards personal hygeine weakened, my hermit-nature strong.

Sigh...

Went to the gym yesterday, for the first time in weeks. Hated it. Resented every second of it. But did it all the same. Came home and showered. Then went for a haircut and a shave. Then tidied the bejeesus out of the flat. Feel rather more in control now. Though that said, was insomniac last night, as I have been a few nights this week, so didn't crash till nearly 4AM. When the alarm went off at 6.30 to wake me for a Trail walk, I simply didn't have it in me. So now, instead of "Blog", the word "Walk" is on my Stuff To Do List for later today. Oxygen, exercise and the like. Hopefully that'll blow any remaining cobwebs out of my brain.