It's been worse, yeah, but on a shorter timescale...ish. Biggest one last year: 18 hours. Never four days. Never. I've never never felt this dark for this long, or at least not in a while.
So there's an excerpt from the Vagina Monologues, I suppose, from one Latina to another. Something about a short skirt. A short, empowering skirt. A short, empowering skirt and how everything underneath it is mine. MINE.
So auditions are Sunday and Monday, but I think I've decided that my mental well-being can't take much more of that. It might be too much. One more tiny pick-axe chipping away at my soul. Don't need that.
Because moods have been low. Spirit is in denial and distant. Intelligence took a dive. Panic symptoms higher than usual. I can't cry. So what is the deal?
Beats me. In all forms.