I feel like I have risen a bit, a small climb partly up the edge of this. I'm not free of the problems. Whatever this is it has had me stuck on a kind of bouning trampoline of anxiety and depression. My mind has had to turn down its processing, and, lol I never all that clever before this happened.
So if I've said some crappy things lately both to myself and to people including here on sf, I'm not going to berate myself. Thhere are reasons for me beoing lost and broken, and even though I have written way too much here, there are other reasons too, which I've managed, thankfully, to have kept back.
I'm very grateful for the intormation I've gleaned from a few of the books I've read recently. And grateful to music, particularly jazz. I feel different - and I'm taking that as a good sign.