The Bad Days

My bad days aren’t always…well, entire days. Probably should have come up with a better title, really, but ‘The Bad Period Between 4 and 11pm’ doesn’t really have the same ring, y’know? 
Anyway, It’s not uncommon for me to have a decent morning, say, and then be horribly down by the time I get home from work.   It’s a strange experience, but one I’ve become accustomed to over the years.
For example, this morning I overslept and felt quite out of sorts all day, which made me chastise myself for not being organised enough and getting myself into that situation in the first place.  As soon as I spend my drive to work being annoyed at myself, I know I’m in for a long one.
Yesterday, however, was the compete opposite.   I had a decent day in the office and then spent 3 hours at home finishing a paid article that I’d spent forever rewriting.  I finally got it submitted and was really buoyed by the sense of achievement.  
Unfortunately, these things, for me, tend to be quite short lived and there’s always something lurking in the background, ready to steal my thunder.
It doesn’t have to be anything important. It can be something seemingly trivial (to anyone else) that derails my day and starts the long, slow downhill slide.    
Once the initial issue is in place, my mind will wander; instantly coming up with other things I should be blue about and, before I know it, I’m scolding myself for that off the cuff comment I made three weeks ago that the person I made it to probably didn’t give a second thought about.   Then it’s about that dress I can’t fit in, or the run I haven’t been on, or the stuff I can’t focus on long enough to do.  And so it goes from there. 
It’s a deeply annoying and exhausting position to have so little control over your mood.  I have two, to be honest: Up and Down.  There is no in between.
Even more annoying is that I’m not able to take a break from myself.   While other people go on holiday to get away (I do, too, obviously), the thing I really need to get away from is always there.  I have no escape from myself, so I tend to take my brain on hols with me and find that I do the same amount of worrying in another country.  And they say a change is as good as a rest.   Not so much. 
I try a variety of things to keep the black dog in his kennel, but I know that very little works if he decides to come and stay for a while.   He never tells me how long for;  just that he’s stopping by.  
And I’ve made my peace with that.  It doesn’t mean that I’m willing to take it lying down, though.   I will still get up, get dressed and face the day while all I want to do is stay in bed for the rest of time.
What I mean is that I know he comes and goes and I try not to give myself too much of a hard time when I can’t cope with stuff.    I know that, soon, I’ll feel better and I have to start again from there.  Onwards and upwards.  
And so, I’m off to spend the day with my black dog.    Mine is a French Bulldog, btw.  I like to imagine he’s small enough so that I can pretend he doesn’t take up too much space.   At this juncture, I will literally try anything.  
How do you cope with your bad days and, more importantly, what breed is YOUR black dog?? 
Suz x 


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