Zombism 101

Today is one of those days, I don't feel awful and I don't feel great. Most of me is in some nebulous parallel universe while a bit of the brain and the body stayed behind to keep up appearances. Like the less interesting version of Invasion of the Bodysnatchers.

It's just all rather blah. And I'm sat here thinking about all the things I should be doing and I can't muster the energy to give two hoots about.

For all I know there are new and fuzzy lifeforms forming on top of my dishes and cutlery but I'd prefer that it stayed out of sight and mind. Actually I'd prefer it if someone swung by and took care of it so i wouldn't have to. I don't want to worry about it. And i can't really be bothered to do anything about it.

I can't be bothered to do a lot of things when I feel this way. Washing and getting dressed are two of them. In the past fortnight I've probably taken one shower and a sponge bath of sorts.

My mood has been wavering but overall I'm not dramatically depressed but I'm not happy either. I'm in a strange inner space between the two.

Everyone can see I'm on autopilot, it's no secret. I make as much effort as is required of me to get by and no more. I don't even feel like it's my life anymore. It's really quite surreal.

I'm jut not engaged with anything or anyone at this point in time. Frankly I could simulataneously win the Euromillions and a Nobel Peace Prize and I doubt you'd get so much as a raised eyebrow from me.
I am firmly in neutral. I don't want to be. I really can't afford to be. But those are the facts.

Saturday I crashed hard. It started okay. I managed to have an almost jokey spirit. Somewhere around 4pm though it all came tumbling down. And like humpty dumpty there was no putting the pieces back together again. My mind must have known there was no going back so enter hibernation I did. On and off till about 2am. Then my brother came into the room and we caught up on that night's Penn and Teller: Fool Us, though I was still half asleep.

I still managed to eventually nod back off somewhere around 4am and refused to get out of bed before 13:30. Which of course is totally the opposite of what I should be doing. At least according to any doctor I've ever seen. Sometimes though you just get tired of fighting it and you just don't have the energy. it's also a fine balancing act to know when to keep pushing forward and when to retreat. Going full steam ahead all day every day inevitably brings on a meltdown. Then again perhaps it's because I allow myself the weekends to wallow that maintaining is so hard, perhaps it would get easier if I just did get out every day regardless of how I felt. It's all just a roll of the dice at the end of the day and you're bound to get it as much wrong as you do right.