The Cycling Vortex

The Vortex isn’t always my bed / bedroom. It apparently takes on different forms. It’s like a worm hole in space that can take one to an alternate time / dimension.  It’s a place where reality bends on itself and nothing normal makes sense anymore.

The Vortex seizes my mind and body and I am rendered inept, and all I want to do is condense myself into a single point like a black hole.

I am in the Vortex again, frickin’ again!

I am also beginning to wonder if lately it’s a little cyclical, i.e., monthly. I seem to be in the Vortex, or fighting to avoid its gravity, at about the same time each lunar month (29.5 days).

I don’t think even Eleanor Roosevelt could get me out of it right now.

P.S. – Please don’t worry about me Greg and Joan. I have enough recovery in me to know that this too shall pass.

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You know what I just realized, if you haven't been following my blog and are just now reading it, the above probably makes absolutely NO sense! The Vortex is my nickname for a state of depression. (See the link in the blog's second word.) For the reference to Eleanor Roosevelt, see a link in her name.