Day 28

I was very tired and slept till 10.30 or so. I stupidly ate loads of chocolate for breakfast. I did at least eat some sensible stuff too but still. I was actually quite energetic once up but after cycling a short amount of my journey, it all felt too much. I couldn't keep going and had to push the bike some of the way. I had left my house 45 minutes late and this didn't help matters. I wasn't too stressed about that though.

just lots of other stuff. I was very miserable and worried that I was pushing God away and thought I must be terrible for being scared of heaven... But I don't want to go to Hell. And God is good. I will be in a different place emotionally by then (in fact, I am using emotional reasoning as to why I am scared and that is a 'faulty form of thinking'). Bibs had the helpful point of thinking about heaven with regards to God's amazing character, rather than what I think might happen. I don't think I am making much sense but I sort of know what I mean.

Just as I was thinking I was basically the devil, I remembered that Christians are all sinners saved by grace. Paul talks about the thorn in his flesh and how he does stuff he doesn't want to and doesn't do stuff he wants to. He felt he was the worst of sinners. I am rubbish but I am crying out to Jesus to hold on to me.

Once at Tyndale, I was exhausted but after chatting a bit with staff about Christmas, I got on with some work. It was quite good and I did begin to stress that maybe I was fine. Maybe I could carry on all day? Maybe...I am a fraud. Obviously.

After a couple of hours, this worry began to get stronger. Half of me wanted to go like I had sort of told myself I could. Half of me felt sure there was no reason to go and that I should just keep going. Anyway, if I went home I would just be miserable. I had nobody to see. I might as well stay and be vaguely useful. I started to feel kind of empty at the prospect of going home. I began to procrastinate more and more. I texted Beka to see if she was free. I got increasingly anxious waiting for a reply. Eventually she replied to say sorry she had been having her haircut. That was fine, but time for me to go home, I thought.

As I left, I began to feel so low. I realised that I hadn't eaten or drunk enough. Just as I began to feel reassured that maybe I wasn't ok, I remembered that I would probably have been fine if I had just eaten/drunk better. I guess that realisation also took away the despair though.

Even though I felt awful, I took a bit of a detour to get some shopping. I didn't want to go back into the house as I was terrified of having to chat to a housemate. I felt like I was being really horrible as I knew she had had a bad day from Facebook but I couldn't face talking. I really needed to eat, drink and recharge. Was I being like the uncaring people in the story of the Good Samaritan? I'm not sure. It's not like she needed urgent attention. I just knew that there was a possibility that she would be bored/lonely and would like some company. But I really did need to recharge. It wasn't just like I didn't feel like keeping her company, I felt awful myself. You need to look after yourself if you are going to be any use to others. But I should probably ask Jesus for forgiveness.

Anyway, I felt quite a bit better once lying down, having eaten and drunk something. I wrote yesterday's post and was pretty anxious about writing today's. I wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps I thought I was going to forget something. Perhaps I wanted to clear my head.

It took me a while to muster up the motivation to go downstairs to get a proper meal. This time some of my housemates were in the kitchen. The one I had worried about seemed ok really. Turned out she more thought her day had been funny. She talked quite a lot while I was boiling my pasta but then I didn't feel too bad going upstairs to eat and watch Sherlock. I kind of felt like that was what I needed.

A quick check of Facebook told me that a friend had got engaged. At first I was very pleased for her but soon became quite sad about it all. After finishing Sherlock, I felt very miserable but then I made myself write this and don't feel too bad right now. A bit fed up maybe but not desperate.

I should do some thought records but I really can't be bothered. I'm free for a lot of tomorrow so maybe I can do lots then...

But I should record the averages for the mood chart: morning d-6, a-7; afternoon d-4, a-4; evening d-3, a-5. Oh I do hate having to put numbers to mood. It all feels pretty arbitrary. And part of the afternoon I would say I wasn't very depressed at all and for another part I was mega depressed. I have no idea whether I have put fair averages. I will try not to worry too much. But then I think what if these scores are relied on to determine how much work I should be doing?? Argh. Half of me thinks maybe I should just work and then most of this stress would go away. But would it just morph into a different problem? Lets face it-that wouldn't be unusual by my track record. But maybe things are different now? Oh what fun it is being in my head...