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8 Legs of Fury



So I've had a tough couple of months.  I have been very depressed since shortly after my birthday.  It's been nearly debilitating.  I've had all the classic signs: gross overeating, wild fluctuations in my sleep patterns, chronic fatigue, zero productivity at work, isolation, (mild) drug use and very, very negative thoughts.  To tell the truth I think I've been in a depressive pattern since right after I got home from Prague but it's been unbearable since the beginning of February. 

Two weeks ago, I had a cathartic therapy session that broke things open and since then I feel like I've been slowly getting better.  This week we talked about my inner voice, the one that constantly tells me I'm no good and whose purpose is to shield me from any pain that could be caused by other people.  The thing that has caused me to be alone, draws me to unavailable men I can't have and protects me from failure.  My therapist asked me to think about it as a lizard on my shoulder that whispers to me, but instead I adopted the spider as my symbol (I was bit by one in college before after all).  He told me not to kill the spider; rather to send it into retirement, off to a sunny place somewhere to spend the rest of its days while I heal and move forward.  It's done it's job and protected me but it's time for it to go.  So I decided to send my spider to Maui, specifically to the Sheraton resort on Kaanapali Beach.  I hope he has fun there, does a little golfing.

Meanwhile I've got work to do.  I feel like I've lost these last 5-6 months, especially after having such a fabulous summer and fall last year.  Surely it's hard to beat a trip to Europe, but I didn't expect to crash this hard.  Still, I remain hopeful.  Do I really have a choice?