I don't know if it was the sleeping pill, obs! singular, or the first day back in my own private hell which sparked today off.
Waking up and for about three hours it was a negative state. Happiness was something which tried to shine it's light. But my mind refused to let it in. Like a rejection from a heart transplant, happiness was squeezed out by the narcosis of negativity.
But being a little bit more forward thinking and busy took me slowly forward. The depression seeped out of me with the passing cloud shadow of anger filling the landscape for a while before the sun began to warm the patchwork country which is my rolling existence on this mortal coil.
Just like my daughter I can be angry and slow to wake up in the first place. Eva cries for the happy warmth of bed and dreams and needs her time there to grow and deal with the day. Pappa cries for the warmth of bed and dreams.....but need some time for the half-night mares to work their way out. When I refer to earlier dreams in current waking nightmares I know that there are some complex sub cosnious rivers flowing into the great missisippi delta of my stupidity. SOme toyuing irony that part of me, or whoever, chooses to refer back to dreams to make the current one into a hellish passing reality.
I'll put it down to the zopiklone but I know that this is something I can't fix alone.