They leave me inhabiting wacky emotional spaces

“Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go
To heal my heart and drown my woe
Rain may fall, and wind may blow
And many miles be still to go
But under a tall tree will I lie
And let the clouds go sailing by”
J.R.R Tolkien

I guess I should write something.
I'll start with a bald statement; I no longer label myself a runner.
That's as flat and two dimensional as a C list celebrity.
There has been some scratchy and sporadic running, rote like around the local woods but basically I've given up.
I have my moody ups and downs but presently I'm suffering from one of those tsunami blackouts that come along once every ten years or so, picking you up and hurling you down on a shoreline littered with your own emotional debris. A roiling devils brew of all my frailties and fears and leaving me feeling anxious, exposed and taut. I am naked and disorientated and I have stones in my heart.
Take driving for example. I hate it at the best of times, and always have but at the moment, the way I'm feeling, even a short trip up to school is a major stressor. I only drive because I have to.
There is no reason for these downers, I don't know what sparks them off but they leave me inhabiting wacky emotional spaces, zombie grunting conversations at the floor and freakazoidal staring into corners and space.
I have no interest in anything and avoid people. These are the times when you value your friends, they are patient and stoical around your rages and rudeness. Running drops off the agenda, I just can't get out the door.
The good news is that I have come down with a strange cold virus. It has left me drained but also forced me to take two days off work. I've caught up with sleep and I feel I am starting to catch up with myself. I'm finding some space. In a seven days time I have a weeks holiday, I'm hoping for some upswing. I need to stop seeing life with monochrome eyes and stop being such a shit.
I love my running. I love my friends and I love my job. I want those things back.