home alone

I have the house to myself, which as an intense introvert is an embarassingly blissful thing. Okay, not entirely to myself: Boingo is curled up across the room on top of the couch. Still, a good almost-winter day to do laundry and talk to myself. And make crepes!

I’m going to clean, but I’m also going to write. Last night while I was watching Batman Begins (excellent film, btw) I was also working on a scene for my novel…which I think may be evolving in an entirely different direction. I’d like to work on it even more.

Also, I’ve started on the MOODGym training program as an adjunct to my therapy, and I’m finding already that it dovetails quite nicely. This morning, folding tshirts, it occurred to me that this is probably the first time that I’ve ever felt that therapy got me to more than just not crazy. (We did family therapy off and on from 4th grade through high school; I first went to therapy on my own when I was suicidal in high school.)

Some of it I’ll attribute to chemicals, both the prozac and the happy-brain effects of lots of cycling. Actually, I think a lot of it is that, because I was able to get to the space where I want to work on this, on growing my mind and my soul. Some of it also comes from the internet, from my bloggy friends, also from the whole lifehacking fad, which has given me concrete tools (and web toys) to keep going forward.

Am I no longer depressed? Yes, I think I can say that. (Scary!) What is left now is the distorted thinking that has always led to depression, and that’s where I’ll be working, training, even.

Deep thoughtful breath.

I’m off to make crepes and work on my novel…..