My husband went to bed without dinner. He said he's feeling unwell, physically, which I believe, but I think he's even more depressed. The depression may be partly the cause for the physical distress. My physical well-being is heading a bit south this evening, as well. I wouldn't really say I'm depressed, but I have a bit of angst that I'm unsure how to quell. Right now we're in a state of flux, hoping for a catalyst to restart our figurative engines. Sure, it's nice when that catalyst comes out of nowhere, but we can't count on one.

I remember, years ago, telling a particular therapist that I would set out on a "pursuit of pleasure". She didn't seem pleased with the idea, and was surely misunderstanding what I meant. Truth is, I guess I was, in a way, hoping for a bit of hypomania, which wasn't good. I did indeed achieve it, which resulted in her literally suspending me as a client. But I'm not against the idea of a jolt, or self lit fire under one's derriere. But how to light it without a forest fire resulting? Plus, I don't have just myself to consider. Then, there are the general limitations given the situation at hand (language issue, pandevmic continuance, etc.)