I’ve been feeling moody lately. It’s hard to explain to someone that loves me that I’m not depressed, because they’re too used to my varying levels of depression, but I’m truly not depressed.

I don’t feel hopeless and I don’t feel (completely) helpless.

I just feel frustrated because my progress in everything has slowed as though I’m trying to swim in caramel, and lonely because I have little contact with anyone other than my cats, husband, parents, and siblings (in order of amount of contact).

It will take time before people will want a tutor/advocate again; that’s just how the summer is.

It will take time to get the house the way I want it (because I can’t do much myself and I can’t ask my husband to do much more than help clean or move specified things and even then, it’s rarely on my timetable) and then, once the house is all tidy, it will take time and energy to keep it that way.

It will take time before I’m a weight I find at all acceptable.

It will take time before I can do exercises on my own, without a personal trainer, and even then it will take a while before I build up any normal level of strength or endurance.

It will take time before I’ll even have the option of fostering a dog, or before I meet anyone new.

As my favorite psychiatrist once told me, “Sometimes life just sucks.” So, if it gets you down, that doesn’t mean you’re depressed, it just means you’ve properly evaluated the situation and will just have to endure through the suckitude.