My web hopping from last Friday appears to have engendered a desire to fix up PtF and join in on some of these various projects. One of the major things is I need to lose the frameset. Frames suck. I need to figure out how to do the layout with the moveable type templates, and also without the templates. I hate web design.

Of course, there's many other things that I should be doing so I feel guilty about deciding to devote a day to PtF. Somehow that feeling ends up being applied to everything else as well, so if I do anything I feel guilty that I'm not doing everything else.

I know that I work better if I focus on one thing at a time/per day. Driven concentration, baby. But I don't seem to be able to give myself permission to do that. I've been feeling a lot of pressure lately to justify my time, my existence. The classic "if you don't have a job, what are you good for?" feeling. Oddly enough that pressure was worse when I was giving SkyWorks my all. Now that I'm not doing much in the way of "real work" nothing's really being said. It's still there, though.

Mike and I fought/discussed this yesterday. There was a job at one of the libraries at UW posted and I debated it for a few weeks back at the start of the summer. I don't want it. I don't want to apply. Big no here. And it keeps being brought up.

It doesn't help that I keep on finding these pathetic reasons (that do come into play, but they're small reasons) for saying no. Like the weight gain and that I have no clothes to wear to a job. Or that I'm strangely content taking care of our home, and painting and doing random things. Or that I'm not sure if I want to start working on SkyWorks again.

The real reason? I'm depressed. Have been for about 7 months now and it's not letting up. The disappointment of Christmas and my business has just laid me low. Quitting smoking has been really hard. Being 28 and still not knowing what I want to be when I grow up is yucky. Being tired all the time is bad. The weight gain and not being able to find any self-confidence for months is devastating.

I've been doing so amazingly well since I moved home from Toronto that it was really easy to ignore this depression. To give it reasons beyond the simple, stark truth. I'm depressed. *sighs*

Actually, when I really think about it, I've been aware of it for a while. At least a part of me has. I've been doing all the right things, subconsciously. heh. I wonder. Is this chemical or situational? Nothing seems to budge it. I've removed some of the pressures, I've focused on things that capture my interest like the watercolours. I've worked on routines, I've worked on not having routines. I've taken it slow, I've pushed.

I've forgotten. heh. No matter what I do, with most of my depressions it's just a matter of living through it. Making each day the best day I can, and living through it. Until the day I wake up and realize that I don't feel this smothering weight on me anymore.

And no matter how much I hate this feeling, I am grateful down to the core of my soul that I'm not suicidal. I spent way too much of my life fighting that demon, I have zero desire to do more of it. Plain 'ol depression is a plate filler enough.

And with that I'm going to go sit in a corner and mope. Maybe.