I had one of the dark days, the first one since I changed my diet, actually. It started out pretty ok, I spent the day in the city, reading a book by the lake and avoiding doing any serious stuff. I thought the heat was getting to me, but actually I just got gloomier and gloomier and by the time we were on the train home I knew that this was a dive.
Strangely enough I did not feel panicky, nor did I get into a vicious circle of scoulding myself into feeling even worse. I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything reasonable until I'd finished the book anyways, so I finished it. Then I was just lying on the bed, listening to my soul being gloomy and complaining about the responsibility of having to decide what to do with something so precious as a life... hearing the world turn in the night outside the window... It felt OK.
I know I have these days and I cannot avoid them. They are part of the process, they are good because they remind me to question everything I invest my energies in every now and again and set my compass anew.
These days used to be the beginning of the end, of breakdowns that would leave me so shattered on the inside it took days or weeks to restore.
I think I have learned quite a lot this year.
The dark days are my friends.
I am OK. The storm has passed. :o)
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