Barking mad?

Well, I am currently lying on the floor as I type this. Reason being, my coccyx is still rather bruised, and I feel just cant seem to get comfy!

Anyway, just thought you should all know that...

Its also actually not that comfortable to type like this.

Hmm which is the lesser of the two evils, sore elbows or bruised bum? Tricky, very tricky.

Anyway (again, cant think of another word, my thesaurus seems to have disappeared tonight) I'm struggling with a few things at the mo, so thought I should get some of my thoughts on here and try to make sense of them....

The last few months have been pretty crazy, lots of fun and exciting things happening, which is lovely, but I've also been working extra hours at the salon, so I kind of feel overwhelmed. Yes, overwhelmed would be the right word.

I'm so mentally drained at the end of my week that on my days off, I'm a zombie who cant function.

I'm constantly fighting the black dog, and its exhausting.

I'm so terrified of sinking into the blackness, but there is nowhere to run to.

I think that's why I'm making so many flipping loom bands. Sounds silly, but those little elastic bands somehow seem to help my anxiety!

A lady at work today was asking me if I enjoyed being a hairdresser, and once I corrected her, and briefly filled her in on my life story (lucky thing), she told me that I still had so much time ahead of me to do whatever I wanted.

She was kind, thoughtful, and just lovely. But I couldn't help but feel that I had disappointed her. That I had somehow let her down. 

Which sounds ridiculous. 

And I don't even know her, so imagine how much I feel like I've let down and disappointed my friends and family.

Urgh.

The 'well' part of my brain tells me that I haven't wasted my twenties, and that good things have come out of my depression. That depression is an illness, that I take tablets for every day, and I will never be in exactly the same blackness again.

But the black dog tells me that I have wasted my university education, that I should have a proper 'career' by now, that I've failed by not doing so, and that I have made a mess of my life.

It gets even more confusing when I cant remember big chunks of the last 5 years, hell, I'm just going to call them the lost years.
The black dog tells me that I'm weak. Not capable. A loser. Nothing.

The black dog also tells me that I'm selfish and shouldn't even be writing this when there are real problems in the world.

I really want to hit the black dog.

Bastard.

xxx