The Rollercoaster Goes Down But It Also Goes Up

I've never been so up and down before. On a day when I would expect myself to be down, I'm happy. Working from ten to nine at two different jobs - I would expect to be depressed. Who wouldn't? I'm happy to be back at work again, both of them. Even though I feel more than lost at both, atleast I'm doing something. I had two whole weeks off - to think about what I wanted to do I suppose, or maybe to fix myself or just take a break. Well I can't say that's what I did. Instead, I crashed. I was awake until five a.m. and then slept all day which for me is a huge sign that I'm in trouble. Basically (and everyone I explain this to laughs) I stay awake late as a way to keep away tomorrow. I don't want to face a new day. Hell, I don't want face any day. Then I sleep all day in an attempt to avoid admitting that tomorrow is now today. If I could, I would sleep a life time. In a sense, that sounds suicidal, but its not. I'm just saying I want to fall into a permanent coma. I really dont think it's unreasonable. Who doesn't like to sleep? Anywyas if I wasn't sleeping, I was either with my horses or drunk. Eventually at the end of the two weeks, my body foiled me and I got chest pains every time I drank. I'd be a poor alcoholic. I wouldn't say it was too weeks well spent. I didn't do anything that I should have done. I didn't work out, eat well, fix my sleep schedule, figure out what I wanted in the future, I didn't even plant my poor plants in the garden. Today though, I feel better. I called my doc (on maternity leave again, jeez you'd think she'd know how to use birth control! Another one?!) and decided to get help. I don't know what form that will be exactly, but I know even with a good day, I've crashed through the floor and I'm sinking into the basement's unset concrete. I need to talk to someone. To me, paying someone to listen isn't a bad idea. Let's face it, no one cares if you're depressed. I know that no one will continue to read this. Well I atleast know one will; it seems blogging is a good way to keep in touch with what eachother's thinking. It's not that no one cares, it's that people only care to a certain extent. If it causes them grief or time to listen, then they don't want to be involved. No problem. I understand. But it hurts. I think I'm somewhat used to it because now when people want to know how I'm doing, I have a hard time telling. What's the point? Its like bad sex, they're already planning what they're doing tomorrow in their heads. In the defense of seeing a therapist, I think I would listen to someone if I was paid. Or atleast pretend to and maybe that's all I need. So I can't say it was a two weeks well spent but I think being able to come back to work gave me the jolt to atleast make a phone call. Wow it may be almost three a.m. at the moment but atleast it's not five and I did just come in from a run in the rain.