Well…it’s now about 5pm, 7 hours or more past the time I would normally have finished my coffees (I always have 2) for the day. I think that ‘dysphoric’, surprisingly, is a very good descriptor for what I’m feeling right now. ‘Like shit’ would also cover it. Tired, with a surprisingly mild but constant headache. And blue. Low. Despondent. Short on inspiration, short on patience. Absolutely no desire to talk to or see anyone.
This morning, wisely I think, I decided that staying in with a cup of tea was a safer bet than going anywhere where I might face temptation. I’ve done this whole quitting addictive substances thing before you see. I’m not going to go anywhere where I can smell coffee. That would be the most torturous, tempting thing, the smell of brewing coffee. Just writing about it is making me imagine its delicious smell…and I want it! I want it so bad…
And since I woke up I have been hungry-big time. Often after a long calorie burning bush walk, or after multiple days camping in the wilderness and eating only camp food, I’ll stop at McDonald’s on the way home to fill up with calories, meat, salt and fat. Well, at about lunchtime today, I had this bazaar craving for McDonald’s with an associated visualisation of some kind of McBurger dripping with melted cheese and greese…with fries, and yes, I would like that supersized. This is not only decidedly NOT normal, but happened after I’d been asleep for 2 hours, not after any kind of physical exertion.
The way I feel is not all that dissimilar to having a hangover, but without the dehydration and associated symptoms. Also surprisingly, I am not craving coffee. After lunch though I almost ordered a lovely mocha cream dessert; a coffee infused pudding – but I resisted. It would be cheating.
I certainly am struggling to write about my experience though. The inspiration for the last three posts came relatively easily, although there’s been a lot more research involved. This one is decidedly not coming easily. In fact it’s barely coming at all. But I refuse to believe that anyone’s writing ability is the product of drug use, despite those 466 quotes from writers saying so. It just doesn’t make any sense.
And I’m tired. Slept after breakfast, and I’m planning to go to bed straight after dinner. Think I’ll go get a massage first though. I deserve it I reckon.