in response to: How are you

I'm still wallowing in the annual slew of my own despond, managing this year however to maintain a skeletal schedule at Qmunity, an LGBTQ resource center where I am a receptionist, keep the apartment reasonably clean (with help), feed the cat, eat too many carbos; and not much else, either way. Not very outgoing internally speaking, so lots of screen and bed time. It is, however, just possible that I am starting to come out of it, this email being one of the (I think) growing number of signs that I may be on the way up and out of the cloying depths of that odious slew which has been constant these last few months. Think of me as trudging thru a dark, sombre terrain, its medium molasses-like on my body, the daily strain and toil of navigating its depths sucking the very life out of me. Possibly, hopefully, having perhaps traversed the deepest, darkest and dankest part, the nadirs of my despondency and desolation, I am now lethargically and dejectedly slogging my way up the other side, the treacherous and uneven terrain beneath my leaden feet deceptively graduated with dips, hollows, and rises, allowing me to break the surface now and again for a brief glimpse of sunlight/hope/happiness before I find myself once more submerged beneath stagnant waves of doubt, despair and depression. Pressing loathsomely on, nauseated, leaning, or rather almost falling over into the thick morass of despair which surrounds me, I haul my dejected and tired ass once more forward towards the distant, sunlit shore of my 'manic' self. More or less.