Ohh, first zero day, the joy. It happens. Didn’t want to keep that joyous event from you!
Why it happened? Long story short: frustration. The day started well enough but then took a nosedive, and I ended up feeling so wound up and frustrated that at 6:30pm I dragged my coughing, snotty self to the gym for an hour of swimming it all away. Which didn’t work, but at least I got a workout in that now leaves me with slightly sore shoulders and a sore ass. Ladies, want to work those glutes? Swim. I feel the burn every single time I let up on my training, and then jump right in as if Michael Phelps was watching.
Why the frustration? Well, the underlying reason is because I’m bipolar type 2 and not quite out of my latest depressive phase. The concrete reason (or trigger, if you will) this time was facebook. Which I can’t really talk about because it would take all of 2 seconds for someone to swoop down and go all, “How can you talk like that about anyone, you’re a public figure, gasp!” or some other related shit. Because apparently, the second you dip your toe into any form of entertainment, your opinion matters, your feelings don’t, and people expect you to “behave” a certain way. Let’s just put it this way: I don’t play well with others (as recently seen in connection to something that still makes my gorge rise and me foam at the mouth and I can’t discuss it because, boohoo!) and I have a very keen sense of fairness, and so very often, people don’t give a shit about being fair. It’s got nothing whatsoever to do with my facebook group, which is awesome, and sitting at 299 members of awesomesauce right now, yay! You guys make up for a lot of shit out there. I should probably limit all my interactions to that–the people who actively want to have anything to do with me–and forget about the rest. Yes, I think I’ll do that for now.
So, want me to talk a bit about the b-bomb I dropped up there? Or woulds you prefer to ignore it because we writers are all book-producing machines and you don’t care about anything except when the next book’s out? Which is okay, to each their own. Live and let live, right? But since there’s a single day we all focus on mental health, versus a month of men wearing mustaches, and I missed that, gotta slide it in somewhere, real smooth.