“The more you put things together, the more they keep falling apart, and that’s the essence of the second law of thermodynamics and I never heard a truer word spoken.” – Doctor Who: Logopolis, by Christopher H. Bidmead
It’s getting towards the end of my first week on holiday and I have done very little, except mooch around my tiny flat (it’s a converted garage) like the Doctor in Logopolis, Tom Baker’s last story in the lead role. (With it’s themes of entropy and decay, Logopolis comes into my head a lot when I’m feeling depressed, even though it’s not really very good.) I did at least manage to give the flat a quick clean yesterday and in the evening I met with my non-biological older sisters. After initially worrying that I was going to be too shy to actually speak to them, I did manage to converse. Apparently I’m not as socially dysfunctional as I say I am online. So that was good.
Other than that though, the first week of my holiday feels like a waste. I suppose that’s not strictly true, as I’ve just established that yesterday was not a total waste and Sunday wasn’t really a waste (I went on a date even if it did end in us breaking up) and there are still a couple more days of the week, if I can sort my sleep pattern out and get some things done. I haven’t done much reading (I started Daniel Deronda last week, but have been too depressed to pick it up again for days, even though I left it in the middle of a chapter. I did read the fantasy/SF graphic novel Nimona though, that was good and I just started reading The Complete Far Side which is weird and awesome).
I may have sort of emailed the woman who was maybe sort of flirting with me on her podcast (!). It was probably a massive mistake inasmuch as she probably wasn’t seriously asking if I was single, I am probably still on the rebound from my last dates, we probably don’t have enough in common, she probably has the wrong personality for me, she probably wouldn’t like my weird politics (my politics are weird enough that I don’t think anyone would agree with them, and I don’t agree with any one party) and I probably couldn’t manage a long-distance relationship. But she hasn’t emailed back yet and probably never will, so there isn’t much reason to worry! Oh, yes.
The fact that no women want to go out with me does at least avoid more serious heartbreak down the line, like Oscar Wilde’s student deciding to avoid love for philosophy (“‘What a silly thing Love is,’ said the Student as he walked away. ‘It is not half as useful as Logic, for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling one of things that are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and study Metaphysics.'” – The Nightingale and the Rose. NB NEVER let children read Oscar Wilde’s fairy tales; they all end with someone dying horribly and everyone else being miserable. This, from the man who wrote the hilarious The Importance of Being Earnest.)
Anyway, my mood is slowly improving, but by small increments and I worry about not being able to get out of this hole entirely, at least not until I go back to work, maybe not at all. Historically, it doesn’t take much to undo the work of recovery and it can take years and medication changes to get back to where I was. My sleep pattern is messed up again, going to bed any time between 1 and 3am, waking up between 10am and midday and getting up at any possible time after that, slowly having breakfast and getting dressed and davening little or nothing of Shacharit (morning prayers). I worry how I will manage to get up at 6am when I go back to work. I did at least manage to write a bit of my Doctor Who book today and I hope to do some shopping after lunch, write some important emails and finally buy a fire extinguisher and/or fire blanket for my flat. My appetite is a bit reduced and I lack energy, concentration and motivation. All classic depression signs. It is what it is, I suppose, as I have reflected before; not particulary profound, but true anyway.