Marvin the Paranoid Android

I’ve come to realise that my depression might be because I’m like Marvin the Paranoid Android from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. A lot of my problems stem from having a super computer in my head that’s always on, always analysing. If it can’t analyse sales figures and response rates to predict market trends and consumer behaviour, or compare tender applications to choose suppliers, or negotiate partner meetings to produce joint marketing targets, then it will analyse being an author, wife and mother.

It will calculate how many portions of fruit and veg the children have eaten, or it will treat the husband like a business partner, detailing his reactions and responses as if there is a need to feed back to the Board.  It will check book sales figures several times a day, as if month end charts make it necessary to keep up with the numbers, despite being able to tally up the amount of books downloaded on one hand (two on a good month).

Round and round the thoughts go with nothing to work on, like cattle chewing a field back to mud until it may never grow again. Writing gives an outlet for my creativity and, when I’m editing, it answers some of my need to analyse. But, oh my, I think I’ll never be happy unless I get a job and wear my brain out with productive thinking. Except I don’t want to get a management job again, because I wasn’t exactly happy when I had one.

In the meantime I’m walking the dog and simultaneously analysing the episode of NCIS I watched last night, tallying how much good food the kids have eaten this week (not much, although we did have a fantastic time in Skegness. More on that later), wondering if my SSRIs are finally settling, reminding myself to email the editors I contacted last week, making a mental note to text my friend about a playdate, and remembering I have to get my niece a gift for her fourth birthday next week. Oh, and writing this blog post in my phone. No wonder I’m restless and exhausted at the same time.

Maybe I’ll be better when the children’s homework is more taxing. A few quadratic equations to see if I recall any of my A Level maths. Perhaps I should buy some year 4 workbooks and get practising: judging by the curriculum evening we went to at our daughter’s school that tried to explain their new way to teach maths, I might need them!