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A clear sign my depression is waxing just now: I find keep minor piano chords as my internal sound track, and I find myself imaging dying in various circumstances, and trying to come up with the funniest last words. (What can I say? Edmund Kean is my hero.)
In the mean time, trying to limit myself to ONE sticky bun.
EDIT: Another Tuesday evening drained away at home suggests to me that my marriage might also have had an element of coping strategy to it. M is the best anti-depressant available without a prescription.
In the mean time, trying to limit myself to ONE sticky bun.
EDIT: Another Tuesday evening drained away at home suggests to me that my marriage might also have had an element of coping strategy to it. M is the best anti-depressant available without a prescription.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-21 12:56 am (UTC)