I don’t want you to worry about me. That’s part of the reason I don’t tell people how I’m doing. I fear they’ll worry too much about me.
But I’m taking steps to take care of myself. I need to let you know that. I get worried you’ll worry too much about me. I’m telling people about my mood, and I tried calling the doctor today. I have to call again Monday morning at nine am to get an appointment, but they made a Note Of My Calling. I don’t know how I feel about that. I’m committed (ha!) to calling people every day and telling them about my shit-for-mood, and to going to yoga every day. (Even though my face is a fucking nightmare right now and I don’t want to show it anywhere. I’ve got white heads galore and I’m trying not to squeeze them. Do you know how difficult that is? I should put a clay sulfur mask on right now.) I’m trying to be around people, and to not get too much sleep, and to get some exercise and sunlight every day. I should break out my light box again.
Just please, please don’t worry about me. I’ll still be here tomorrow.
Oh, and I’m not listening to any Smiths or Joy Division, either. So there!