It continues. There is this phenomenon of post-surgical depression that is a common occurrence with this kind of surgery, and apparently I'm ripe for the picking. It's a different thing than the normal clinical depression for which I am taking drugs-- apparently this is hormonally based. Make all the jokes you want, I don't have a craving for chocolate.
Regardless of its source, it's something that I have to deal with, and it's from a difficult place, kind of hitting below the belt. Accordingly, I withdraw myself and stay away from any possible romantic entanglements, no matter how remote.
It's because I know I am vulnerable. This is a hard time because it's a whole lot like the rawness that comes after a breakup, the fresh hell when you just want to be held and told everything is gonna be all right, the monsters aren't real, there isn't a bogeyman in your closet or under the bed or monsters living under the stairs.
It's not a good place to be. It's not a good place from where to make decisions.
I'm not used to this. I'm used to control and logic and causal relationships where if a then b</a> is the rule of law. This is shaky ground, liable to give way at any moment and send me plunging into the abyss.
Other than that, things are fine.