I feel alright on most days. My crying bouts have reduced to 3 times a week. I don't need so much alcohol to feel 'better' anymore. I can get by most days without thinking about depressing things. I haven't had a sleeping pill in almost 3 weeks. I'm getting there.
Instead, I play more squash to release my agression. I go to church after work as often as possible to quiet my thoughts. I spend time with selected friends who I know will make me laugh. I make plans everyday to ensure I'm not sitting in my room alone, choosing the best hymns for my funeral (haha).
But I will have off days. And I know these 'days' the moment I wake up. It just hits me like a sledgehammer and from that second, I just start to slide downhill. And no squash session, church visit or round of beers is gonna pick me up.
Sunday I had an off day. I hate it when that happens. And although I know talking about it will help, I couldn't pick up the phone to call my usual confidantes because I think they deserve a break as well. So I had a good sob-fest, washed my face, went to a party and enjoyed my beer. Small efforts can be huge triumphs on days like these.