on a scale of one to ten

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On a scale of one to ten, one being crawl-into-bed and sob and hide the knives and ten being in-love-with-the-universe, last Tuesday was about a 3. Which isn't good. I even spoke to the eagle about 'tracking' my moods.

The trick with the chronic/major depression as I experience it is that I can slip down and down and since I am getting depressed, it all seems to fit, all seems to be the way it should be. But it's not okay, it's an under-functioning of my happiness receptors.

So Aquila will ask again in a few days. I don't buy the 'feel bad for three days and see the dr.' pattern. If I'm at 2 or 3 for a week or two, then I worry.

(And why should I not see my dr.? I really dislike the whole 'change the meds' experience on SSRI - I had the withdrawal symptoms for weeks last time. My current meds have dealt well with the depression and the fibromygalia)

And yesterday and today have been about 5. Which is okay. Not great. 5 is snow-and-cold-and-a-little-too-much-to-do. Which does describe my day today.

So I wait, with the rest of us, for the coming of Jesus.

The best thing in the last two days was the second Advent service on Wednesday. We preached to the choir, literally. MP was annoyed - why are we doing this worship service for 15 people? (this is in a situation with average 650 for a weekend). But as I celebrated communion I just felt full - these few were good folks, they sang well, the word was preached, and the promise (the 2 or 3 together in my name) was true.
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