I used to get the stomach flu about once a year. I remember vividly those horrible days when I would go to school, and about ten in the morning (usually just before morning recess) I would just erupt. It was embarassing as all get out. Nobody wants to vomit in front of their friends, you know? Someone would come pick me up from school and I would spend the next two or three days at home in front of the television, with a big silver bowl under my little chinny chin chin.

Other than the humiliation of having to run out of a classroom mid-puke, I recall the intense feeling of nausea. All day, riding waves of sick. Feeling good, feeling okay, eating saltine crackers and sipping on seven up, getting worse, throwing up, then feeling okay again. All day long. That vivid sensation of uncertainty left a deep imprint on my memory.

The depression works a little like those waves of nausea. Everything is good for awhile, then you just have to hide in the bathroom for a few days. Emerge raw, try to get back on the schedule of living and away from the schedule of sadness. Then back into the bathroom. the closet. the bedroom. Hide somewhere, away from the pressures of the real world.

The strange thing is, this is my life. I doubt anyone who knows me would ever think that I am riding this roller coaster. In fact, this has been a pretty good summer. The problem is that there is this something that follows me around all the time, that little light-headed warning that another round of sick is lurking forever behind the next bend.

On a lighter note, I am working less in the next two weeks, so I will have time to get some real work done. I am trying to finish the mix-cd for my ackage exchange partner who has patiently and silently been waiting for about three months now. No worries, exchange person- you are on my mind. I did also receive a super fabulous box from janest. so many thanks to you! I love it.

just a quickie update.