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I'm miserable.

Not the sort of miserable that people get when they get suicidal or sleep for days or shout at everyone (real or imagined) to just leave the alone, no, this is more of a mid-range miserable.

I considered logging in Sunday and Monday, but I had nothing to say. Nothing to say in a node or a daylog or to anyone in any sort of chat. So I didn't log in.

I spent nearly all of Sunday in bed, alternating between sweating and having the chills. I don't know how high my fever got because I never took my temperature. I don't even know if there's a thermometer there. I wasn't at home. I was tired, and sore, and hot, and cold, and achy, and unhappy, and uncomfortable, and I took out someone else's day as collateral damage, and although I hate the fact that I let someone else down, I'd do it again if the situation arose 'cause I felt that bad. He brought me tissues. They had lotion. I went through an entire box that day. You know you're bad off when you get dehydrated merely from the act of blowing your nose repeatedly.

Yesterday wasn't much different. I woke up in time to call in to work and let them know I wouldn't be there. I then slept til 4pm. I woke up achy, with a runny nose, still feverish and chilled, and with a pounding skull. I felt much better than Sunday. I failed to do anything to get my car fixed. It's a Volvo, so my mechanic can't do anything with it, nor can my three backups. So now I have to hit the yellow pages to find someone who'll do a diagnostic without costing my entire repair budget. But I haven't even tried. I want to, but I can't drum up the energy. I stayed up too late because I couldn't sleep. I went to bed when my brother and husband had a pissing-contest fight over who could be the bigger asshole and told the hubby that he could sleep in the office. He did. I couldn't sleep for an hour.

I woke up before my alarm went off. I had strange dreams through the night and couldn't remember anything other than their strangeness and that they were somewhat disturbing. Dreams I can't remember haunt me. Fragments of them will come floating up from my subconscious for days or weeks after. I can feel this one floating around at the back of my skull, waiting for an opportune time to assert itself into my awareness, tainting anything I might be doing.

I went to work. I do a lot of varied jobs and we've been short-handed at the office, so I wanted to go in and take care of some of the work that crosses my desk that doesn't get handled if I'm no there to handle it. I handled my end of things. Documents that were to have been dealt with over a month ago were found on my desk. I'm not to blame, though, as my desk is something of a dumping grounds. I just need to keep it cleaner. I went through all of the loose papers before I came home. I was there for less than two hours.

I was awake for the entire day. I did nothing of value after coming home. I yet again failed to do anything to speed up the repair of my car. I thought about it for nearly half an hour, but I couldn't call up anything but apathy. I thought about logging on, but it held nothing for me. My head still hurts, I'm still coughing, and I've gone through nearly another box of tissues in the last two days.

I finally logged on. I can't come up with anything I'm even remotely interested in doing while I'm online. I have no interest in noding. I have no interest in reading. I have no interest in games. I have no interest in chatting. I'm depressed.

It's not a great depression. I'm not crying. I don't even feel a hint of a cry, so I have no release there. If I were any more depressed, I could bury myself in The Downward Spiral on endless repeat and feast on that for a few hours til I was ready to come away cleansed, but I am not, so I have no release there. This is an insidious sort of depression. It just sort of erodes away at the will in little pieces. It's so slight, you almost can't notice the slow descent.

I have ICQ running, but I have no interest in reaching out to anyone. That's the greatest sign of my depression. It always is. If I am available, but remain silent (which any who chat with me know is quite unlike me), then I'm likely depressed. If I were merely busy, I'd throw a greeting out to those I consider friends.

Many times, once a condition is acknowledged, then it's reversal is only a matter of time. But this is different. Spotting this is like being on morphine for pain. You know it's there, you can feel it, if only in an abstract way, but you just don't care.

I've fallen asleep into dreams three times since I started writing this. I can't remember anything about them, but I know the whistling of my breathing woke me from the first. It's past my bedtime and I need to sleep. I have work in the morning and a convention this weekend.