Having an out-of-bed experience in Rambling sane thoughts of the terminally me

It's friday. It's 13:25 at the time I start penning this. I'm listening to Billy Bragg, courtesy of spottily. My day so far has resolved around getting the computers in my training room up to date for an up skill group coming my way soon.

Upskill! Woohoo!

The only problem is I'm not feeling the joy of having left my bed today. I don't feel down or anything, just tired. Actually, not even tired. My body feels tired, like I've been running. Which I haven't. The running thing is for month two of the diet, I wanted to lose a couple of pounds first. Which reminds me, I should get weighed at some point.

Ok, my train of thought is just being odd today. Returning to my point.

Yeah, so I feel tired and this is making it more difficult to push myself to do things I'm supposed to be doing on my diet. Like my 30 sit ups a day. I promised myself I'd do them. I know I can, I just have to get the motivation on it.

Oh caffeine how I miss you. You were so very very good for motivation.

Still, can't complain, I got a compliment from a girl last night saying I looked thinner. I certainly think I look less "jowley" but I don't know about thinner. Still, only 3 weeks in, I can't expect miracles. Long term change and all that jazz.

I've gotten this far into the entry and realised I've got nothing of interest to say. This would normally prompt me to delete this entry but I've also promised myself to try and keep this entries going even when they devolve into stream of consciousness pieces. So let's try that.

I have a major problem with people who let their mental illnesses rule their lives. Well, I say a major problem, it's more of a minor annoyance. My Nan' has suffered depression all of her adult life and it didn't stop her leading a full and active one. People I know who used to deal with their problems seem to stop giving a shit as soon as they've got a diagnosis. Oh, I've got depression, it's not my fault.

Now, if you read this and you suffer from depression, please, don't get me wrong, I feel for you. I get down some times. I've been on anti-depressants. I've contemplated suicide. I have been miserable beyond the telling of it in the deep dark "nothing will ever be alright again". It was frakking hell to drag myself up by the boots back to feeling like a person again and it took help from my friends and family. My problem is not with people with depression or even with depression itself; it's with people who treat any mental instability as an excuse to not bother.

The worst is when the person doesn't merit the bullshit drama. "I had a bad nights sleep" - must be depression "I slept too long" - must be depression "I don't want to eat" - must be depression "I want to eat" - must be depression.

Everything about the person becomes that illness. You can't have a conversation with them without it cycling back to mental health. You get a blow by blow account of how their life is terrible and if you try and interject you get told "it's ok for you, you don't have depression". Like making an attempt at not being miserable somehow disqualifies you from ever having a bad day.

It's not the professionals who are diagnosing them with this that I have a problem with but anyone who's first thought upon over-sleeping is "curse this depression of mine, how long must I be saddled with it!" should really take a look at their life-style.

I'd like to reclarify that those of you who have this problem and take steps to tackle it, from getting professional help through to making sure you eat enough fruit and veg' or do plenty of exercise, this rant is not at you. It's the people who dial out of the world because it's too much hard work to try and get going.

I think it's that looking at yourself in a mirror thing; "There but for the grace of god goes Adam Shaw". Perhaps I should just be happy that I'm not that person.

Anyhow, rant over and at least I filled a little bit of an entry in. Rantrantrambleramblemramble.