The Whirring Of A Spiralling Mind May 2, 2011Posted by Lauren Cooke in Depression.
Tags: freaking, friends, Life, Travel
You may have noticed that the happier I am, the less I write. Something about my previously default position of melancholy made for plenty of writing fodder, and now that I am happily drifting through life in a fog of chirpiness, the need to whine and complain is somewhat reduced.
Still, some days you just feel a little fragile.
Today was actually a wonderful day. I learnt all about the cracking of the enigma codes at Bletchly Park, and wandered around with a peculiar combination of fascination and blank wonderment at the idea that anyone could naturally get their heads around that many numbers and concepts.
Still, this evening I am tired. I am slumped on the sofa, a book and a laptop within easy reach of my lazy fingers. I can also feel my mind whirring – I got to thinking about my trip, and that rather vocal mental voice started gibbering and worrying away. You see, I am terrified. The terror is growing steadily, day by day. I am freaking out about money, about the trip itself, about the growing sense of inevitability as the due date trips ever closer.
The feeling is horrible. A deep sickness deep in my belly, a fuzzy feverish buzz in my mind that threatens at any moment to bubble over and make me swoon and panic. I need a big hug, and some chocolate, and an appeasement of the deadline.