catastrophising, part two...

I love that word, catastrophising. And I can recognise it as what yesterday was about. It doesn't make it any better, of course, and I still wish it hadn't happened.
But today I can accept that it did, and that the sun is still shining today.
Of course, Miss T woke up her usual happy self, there were no dramatic "I hate mummy because she shouted" declarations, and I got my usual morning cuddle. Time will tell if there are any lasting effects but for the moment, we're moving on.
Which means that today continues as normal - and as of 15 minutes ago, I'm alone with her again until bedtime. Unless you count my five furry chaperones...
That does make me nervous, I have to confess. Today started badly for me, despite Miss T's attentions. It was one of those mornings where I knew I had to get up and face the world but I couldn't find it in me to do it.
That doesn't mean I just wanted an extra hour in bed, although that was a welcome benefit.
It means my head was saying, 'get up, get ready, you'll achieve so much' but my heart was stubbornly refusing.
All I could focus on was the catastrophising (I'm going to use that word as much as I can because it makes me smile!) of the previous day and the insistence that Miss T would have a better morning without me there. In fact, everyone would have a better morning without me there.
This is the part I hate most about the black fog of depression. It's all very well being aware of it, having coping strategies and of course fantastic friends, and thanks to all who responded yesterday, but when it descends like that I am literally powerless against it. I know I'm being irrational, just like yesterday I knew I was being unreasonable. But I don't know how to switch it off, or to switch the light on and banish the darkness.
Maybe that's just an excuse. I know it sounds like one and I'm sure that's what many of you are thinking.
So you'll be relieved to hear I am pulling myself together and I have plenty planned for this afternoon, including planting in the garden and errands in town.
Whether that will be enough to keep the fog at bay and the toddler amused remains to be seen.
All I can do is hope - and sometimes I can't even do that.