Well, Fuck

So much for my little bout of melancholy just being me feeling sorry for myself. Nope, I've found my way into actual depression.

It's rather mild--for me, at least. And I guess it's more of an agitated depression than that black, black hole I get into from time to time. I just don't feel motivated and the thought of doing much of anything leaves me feeling really fucking overwhelmed. But my arms and legs don't feel like they weigh a thousand pounds, at least.

I slept from like 2 am yesterday until 6 pm today. Now, I know I normally sleep more than most people, but, Jesus, 16 hours is a lot, even for me. And while today has been more productive than the last few days, I still haven't done a whole hell of a lot. I'm kind of anxious, feeling like I should be doing something with myself, but either not knowing what to do or feeling overwhelmed by what all I should be doing or both.

It fucking blows.

I'm scaling back the Lamictal a bit, and if the bottom keeps falling out from under me, I'll up the Wellbutrin. Fuck it, no sense in feeling like this if I don't have to. I hope I'll get caught up tomorrow. I'm about half there now.

Also, could I PLEASE stop dreaming about people who don't give a fuck about me? No goddamn wonder I keep waking up depressed. I dream about them nearly every fucking time I go to sleep. It really sucks, and it's kinda not funny anymore.

I think I'm going to bed. I feel exhausted, despite all the sleep earlier, so maybe I can get my sleep schedule back to normal. That should make me feel a little better. Right?

FML.