Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

wave hello

I guess I plateaued on my meds; I've been feeling biochemically challenged the past several days. I have to believe that dysfunctional neurochemicals are at play, because otherwise I ascribe it all to defecits in character--I feel churlish and tacky for not expressing my thanks to people in more direct and verbal ways, and lazy for not writing in LJ, and a loser for not keeping up on my e-mail. But there are no tangible reasons for my "mood." Yesterday I just felt as if I weighed a thousand pounds, and my head felt full of heavy sand. That is depression: the feeling of being sandbagged.

I've been taking notes of things to write about and hope to get some more interesting words out soon.

My chief mental preoccupation right now is finding housing. I think I'd benefit from living in some organized, structured setting for a while, but it's all applications and waiting lists and so it worries me that I'll reach the end of my allotted time at the Crisis Respite Program at the shelter before I find something. (Here is where I chew my lip and stuff.)

I must post more soon; not all my observations center on me--since I last posted I've lost one roommate and gained another. There have been open beds in the women's dorm ever since I got there; meanwhile the men have double our number of beds and are at max capacity. Tensions and tempers remain pretty even so far considering the situation. Apparently they have an epic snorer.

I've been visiting gulls at the waterfront. Yesterday I wrote, "There's something about the beaky whine of gulls that reminds me of cats begging." The open mouths, the sheer energy of insistence. Feed me! They amuse me.
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