Every Sunday for... well my whole life, I've had what's unofficially termed "Sunday Depression". This terrible affliction occurs around lunch time on Sunday and ends Monday morning after the sleepless night of fear and worry. It's the dread of school or work, the big let down that the weekend is nearly over and you have to go back to your weekday life where you're told what to do by someone you don't really want to be told what to do by.
I don't do anything on Sundays. Some might say that's the problem. I should get out and do activities, meet people, participate. Well, I've tried that and I found myself not enjoying the activity, hating the people and choosing not to participate. Instead of being my own downer, I'd be a downer for other people too.
So I find myself sitting at home, watching depressing TV or DVDs (my wife sees her Mother on Sundays), eating food from hell, drinking too much and going to bed early because I'm just "fed up" with the day.
So then I lie in bed thinking about the work I need to do, all the things I should have done on the weekend, all the upcoming events, the appointments, the people I have to deal with and wishing it was Friday night. So in order to sleep I'll take a couple of nurofen plus and hope the Sunday blues doesn't eat it whole and spit out the codeine.
I work early shift so I have to be up at 5.30am. Most people only recognise one "5.30" a day, but some of us get two. If I'm lucky enough to get to sleep I wake up around 4am dehydrated from the alcohol and salty food I consumed a few hours before. I have several alarms ready to go off at 5.30, but I don't trust them, so I watch the clock and "drift off" occasionally while staring at the clock that seems to run faster at that time of the morning.
The sound of the alarm on Monday morning is like a funeral bell. At least there's only four more sleeps until Friday.
