Just coming out of something now. The best metaphor is a fever. The fever comes on, I look around me for causes because it has taken me totally off guard I don’t know where it has come from and I’m somewhat scared. Why does everything feel like shit? I’m active, though, and unlike a fever, this feeling has me bouncing off the walls internally, looking, looking for something that could possibly be making me feel this way, this shitty and shat upon. I see everything as evidence that there’s something wrong with me, with the world around me, but mostly with me. What I’ve done wrong, what’s shitty right now about the way I’ve gone about things, what’s wrong with my body and my spirit, where I’m weak and what I’m bad at. Also, who I’m with, how much better than me they are. How I’m incapable of typing and doing the million other things I otherwise take for granted. Then, the depression comes, the giving up of all hope, the sinking into confirmation that yes, all these things have gone wrong, I am indeed bad at all these things and these people are better than I am at them. This lasts for about two or three days. What comes next is the fever breaks as fast as it came on. One hour I’m not paying too much attention to myself in particular and the next I’m out, out of the depression and starting to think more clearly. The things around me that were proof positive that I was a shit — they’re still there but they don’t bother me now. I’m back to myself again, and little things don’t exist. I take care of things. I take care of myself, and I don’t want to write any more because I need to go feel this for as long as it will last.