Book of Eucalypt

I’ve had depression since I hit puberty. It went undiagnosed until I was nineteen, and we all thought my moods and dark feelings were part of growing up – that’d I’d grow out of it.

I’m twenty-eight in August, and needless to say, I’m still waiting to “grow out of it.”

Last night was the dark moon, and my Gods I was bad. These days I put my moods down to events happening during the day, annoyances with family members and the like. It got so bad recently that I ended up getting a blood test to see if my hormones were aligned.

They’re not.

Fair enough, my mood swings are most likely caused by my out-of-balance thyroid glands that go along with the syndrome my doctor blessed me with; but I’m really believing it is actually more than that.

I’ve begun a few times now to attempt to chart my moods by the moon. To really do it, not half heartedly do it. I begin, and a week into it I forget. I know that during a full moon I’m either really hyper or rather depressed. It’s always one or the other. Normally I try to force myself into a happy mood so I can join my extended Pagan family in various events.

But last night, that was terrible. And after trolling facebook, I wasn’t the only one.

Yesterday I very nearly didn’t go to work. I got on the train to realise I didn’t have my iPod, that the Polish people were upstairs on the carriage in their extended group, and they wouldn’t stop talking. This is where the iPod comes in handy, as I don’t understand why people need to converse before 6am – we’re all tired and want to relax before heading to work! So downstairs I went, to be near a snorer, a sniffer, and a cougher. Mood darkened, and it took all my effort to drag my bum off the train. A chocolate muffin on the walk up the hill to the office helped.

I felt my mood switch around 2.30-3pm. It went dark, I began to feel numb, and lost all motivation. I left fifteen minutes early, and scowled at nothing all the way to the station. I felt like I used to during the height of my depression – thoughts of suicide entered my mind (no action taken) and I was ready to rip open my arms. I know that that’s when I’m having a really bad emotional/mental time when I’m ready to cut myself again.

In five days time, I’ll have been “clean” and free from self injury for four years. That’s a big thing for me.

My poor husband. He tried his hardest to keep me from sinking further into depression last night. I thank him so much for that. Until my hormones are balanced, the best I can do is wait out the emotional roller-coaster. I just wanted to curl up into a ball in the bedroom, cry, and fall asleep.

I’ve taken today off work. I’m going to have to explain everything to my boss as I seem to be taking a lot of time off of late. Fucking emotional bullshit, I’m so over it! And by “explain” I mean “muggle everything down” which will be fun. I’ve ran out of sick leave, too.

Bugger.

Today was needed, though. I was able to sleep, do laundry, tidy up. There are some things you can’t do when the husband is home. Did the awaiting dishes, took four bags of rubbish out and edited my manuscript. I printed it at work so I could make notes on where to fix my grammar. Moved an unused desk into the bedroom and made a variation of an altar. I know, we have this big house, but I feel most comfortable with it next to my bed. It’s my energy, my husband can’t litter the area, and it helps me sleep when I have all this wonderful energy flowing to me.

I found a book on The Morrigan I’ve been looking for for a month or so. And I found my thick craft wire, so I was finally able to finish my feather smudging fan. Then I found the rosemary and bay smudge sticks, so the house now has a lovely energy having smudged with my new feather smudge fan, and my crystals are all cleansed.

Sometimes you need a day to yourself, to get things done, to unclutter the house and to unclutter your mind and energy.

<——- My feather smudging fan. Ibis, crow and cockatoo feathers, wrapped in silver craft wire with an aventurine bead at the bottom.