I'm afraid there will be no podcast today. I was feeling sick yesterday because my I saw my cat throw up and I had to clean it up and seeing and smelling vomit, even cat vomit, makes a person sick. I didn't throw up myself but the sensation never went away. In fact some of you probably feel sick just reading that sentence, so sorry once again.
I also felt a lot more nervous than I usually do. It might be a bit hard to believe but I still feel nervous when it comes to recording podcasts. I seize up right until I just bite the bullet and hit record and start talking. I couldn't even do that last night though. I kept putting it off so much and eventually I realised that it had in fact become too long, and I had left it too late.
I don't even remember realising that I was getting more depressed. I guess it has happened though. I finally got my letter from the doctor setting up my first therapy appointment. I don't know if you've ever told a doctor you're depressed but when you do they give you this questionnaire where you say how much you've been feeling a certain thing over the last two weeks, and how much your daily life is impacted. Most of them are pretty obvious ones like "Feeling like you would be better off dead" and when I found myself filling it in perfectly honestly I looked at it and thought "Fuck, that's a bad score." I had become seemingly happier on the outside, and other than that really bad week a few weeks ago I had probably come across quite happy on here. There, as clear as day though, was the proof that I'm not.
I'm putting off what I need to do. I'm not doing much university work, I've still not opened my book to look through it again. If it wasn't such a part of my routine I'd have probably stopped blogging. You could almost say blogging is part of the rut I've found myself in. I'd go on and on but I'd just be ranting and repeating myself. I feel like shit every time my cat is ill too anyway because it's my fault she has a sensitive stomach and because I'm in charge of feeding her it's my fault if she eats something that makes her sick. She's probably going to be like this her whole life and it's my fault. I fucking suck.
Guess it's a good job I didn't record a podcast. The last thing I need is to cry on one again.
Sometimes I wonder why that confident, charming, charismatic person I can become if necessary isn't my default setting.
To not be totally depressing, because damn I hate that, I do have something that just made me smile. Well, my cat still loves me, obviously, and she's actually taken to sleeping under my covers during the day. She'll burrow under there and sometimes her foot sticks out and it's seriously adorable. Now, if she would sleep on me more again I'd be a lot more comfortable. That's what teddies are for though I guess. I am feeling kind of better because I hate dwelling on stuff but fuck it this can still go up. You deserve to know what happened.