I've hit that point again.  My strength is sapped, my willpower at its lowest ebb.  I'm just going through the motions, trying not to grind to a complete halt.  After all that's happened and then having my family making things even worse, while being disappointed at work at the same time, I think I've just used up all of my emotional reserves.

I know this happens.  I know I'll come out the other side and start rebuilding for the next round.  But God, it sucks so much every time.  About 15 years ago I put aside any delusion that this will go away forever and work more toward risk mitigation but there are times when life just overwhelms me and even getting into the shower is a monumental task.  Leaving the apartment requires a massive effort; when interacting with people I feel shaky and like everyone is looking at me and the mess I am. Even though I know I've gotten pretty good at covering it, there's that paranoia, a huge sign that I'm in that place again.

I'll make it, it's not the worst I've been. But it's time to just do what I have to, be a good little puppet and maintain the facade while dragging myself through every day numb, or worse, paranoid, anxious, and upset. I can only hope it will last for a short time and not be one of the lengthy recoveries.  Yet the fact  that I can hope is a good sign.