Beaten

I’ve made an appointment to see my doctor early next week. I’m thinking I may have depression. I know everyone has days when you don’t feel like getting out of bed, but when it actually takes you 4 hours to get your feet on the floor, then maybe it’s time to get help.
I’ve always had ups and downs in my life, but this is something else. Everytime I feel like I’m on my way up and out of the hole, I start slipping down the slope into darkness again. For every positive thought or action, there’s immediately a negative, defeatist thought that pops in my head and clouds it. It’s as if my mind is trying to stop me from functioning.

That’s probably why Ted kicked my arse again at chess today. I think I moved seven pieces before he triumphantly chanted “Check mate!” Bastard. He told me he set me up with a Tyrolean opening before swooping on my King with his Bishops. I told him he was full of shit and just got lucky, but secretly I think he’s a wily old buffer who is playing mind games with me, and winning. But fear not – I’ve bought myself a ‘Teach Yourself Chess’ book and his arse, one day soon, will be mine.

RC 22-10-09