Still depressed…

… but still chugging along.

Yes, haven’t I been neglectful with the blogging?

Have I taken leave of my senses, stripped naked and run off into the forest, moss growing in my crevices? No, not exactly.

I’m still depressed. That’s not changing. It’s a life-long vocation.

But I’m not about to start chittering with the squirrels either. Not unless someone posts a picture of them to my Facebook wall, in which case I’ll probably gawp and mew, rather than chitter.

People do worry when you remain submerged beneath everyone’s social strata for long periods. But honestly, it’s all cool. Yes, you; I have noticed. Thanks for caring. Now please stop fretting.

No. I haven’t had a social life off somewhere else. Yes. I have been busy. Productive even.

Only, I’m hammering the fuck out of myself of late. My daily caloric intake is hovering around the 1600 mark, and I’ve been a little bit of a fiend at the gym. Relatively speaking that is… I’ve trained harder before, when somewhat younger… specifically at age 29.

Okay… so I’ve hit 40 recently. I guess 11 years is more than “somewhat”.

Still. The weights I’m lifting are going up despite the caloric restriction, and I’ve lost 10k of flubber over the past 4 weeks.

The connective tissue pain of the past 8 years has been reduced to a bare minimum. I haven’t had this kind of mobility since… my 20s…

My 20s… gawd. My first blog post, a few platforms back and nearly ten years ago, was published just a few weeks after the last day of my 20s. And even then before poor health set in, I was somewhat fresh for my age.

I had youth when I started blogging. And more hair on top of my head.

I also had depression, as always, and it was far more poorly managed than now. I’m not inclined towards nostalgia about that.

Right now I weigh as much as I did when I was 25, although that’s no great feat given that I was fitter at 29. My aim is to get down to something approximating my body composition of twenty years ago – perhaps with a little more muscle (for physical comfort and strength, not vanity).

If… If I can maintain the amount of progress I’ve made so far, this goal is conceivably doable by winter’s end. I’d certainly be placed in close striking distance at least.

But this means putting my head down, and continuing to hammer away in the small hours at gym… on a low energy diet… which doesn’t leave me with much time or inclination left for socialising, or for writing.

It’s a fight. And I can justify neglecting my writing for the time being, the possibilities for improving my heath being what they are. Indeed, it’s been my health holding my writing back for some time now, albeit up until more recent years, mostly in terms of the quality of what I churn out.

Exercise is good for depression as well, of course. There’s that.

I am taking care of myself, actually. Thanks for checking. Although I’ll lurk at the surface here for a little while before submerging again. I have a likely spoken word engagement in the near future, I’ve a large, deeply personal post in draft form I’m umming and ahhing about publishing, and my tenth anniversary of blogging is on Monday.

Now if it’s all the same, I think I’ll grab a little shut eye.

Oh, and hello again! And goodnight!

~ Bruce

Medicated #003

Yaaaaaaawwn…

I’m just a little weak at the moment. While I’m happy to report that last night saw the first night of sleep for a number of nights that could be called normal and healthy, the insomnia has taken a bit of a toll.

I’ll be recovering for a couple of days, I’d imagine.

It’s just a little odd for me, really. I’m more motivated that I’ve been in ages, and right throughout the day, but the body just isn’t willing to keep up. Usually it’s the drive that flags first.

That being said, I’m actually more on top of a lot of things than I usually am. In addition to the usual humdrum, I’ve got more ironing and whatnot done. My home is tidier than usual.

I’ve even got around to moving the furniture into a new configuration around the house – almost the way I want things to be in a writing environment.

When I’m not tired, it can feel a little like having a clear, burning sun, the perfect magnifying glass, but not knowing what to burn. I’ve got the energy and the focus, I’m just not accustomed to having it like this.

Readers read at their own risk – management takes no responsibility for accidental cauterization. Actually no, there’s no risk of that. I’m tired right now.

I’m getting no reading done, of course. Oh, my mind is alert, but if I sit down in a cosy spot to read I’ll start to nod off even as my thoughts race. I have to keep on my feet if I want to keep moving, and that of course, exhausts me even further. And reading and writing aren’t things that really get done in any of this.

Even after the issue of sleep is resolved, I suspect there will be a certain amount of decrepitude, physically speaking, to deal with. Gym will help with this, but I’m still not sure yet how large the gulf is between my ambitions and my physical capacity to deliver.

A whole new phase of rehabilitation is unfurling in front of me.

For now, I’m just going to try to get some sleep.

~ Bruce

Medicated #002

Worpwoggletreefish… teeeeee hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!

You were expecting something like that? No? Good!

A few days ago I managed the first night of unbroken, eight hour sleep, in a long time. Now however, as I’ve reached the maximum dose of my medication, insomnia has returned. I expect it to abate again, eventually, as it’s done in every graduation.

Then that should be it for insomnia; no more increments in dosage pending, I should level out, side-effects-wise.

It’s the lack of sleep that’s kept me away from writing, if nothing else. I gave myself time for eight hours last night, but could only manage five, again for the second night in a row.

At any rate, there’s been some speculation through the backchannels, some inquiry into wellbeing, on account of my being a little quiet online and whatnot. No, I’m not dead, nor has the Flying Spaghetti Monster revealed His noodly appendage to me.

I’m still doing fine. There’s no doomsday in sight. You may recall that I entered into this at an unprecedented elevation of mood.

None of the scarier side effects have occurred; suicidal thoughts (I’ve never had those in my life); heart palpitations; spasms; nausea.

I’m just a little tired is all. You can all relax. Maybe I’ll sleep better knowing you’re chilled out.

If and when the upside of getting my sleep back coincides with better motivation, over the next couple of weeks before the benefits plateau, I’m contemplating having a little toy around with Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled. (Yes, I thought ‘oh dear!’, in Fry’s voice when I read the title).

Perhaps I’ll churn out a poem or two in an altered frame of mind.

Until then, poo-tee-weet?

~ Bruce