Possibly I'll be more interesting when the manic cheer phase hits.

I've gone through the drastic downward mouthcurve of miserable, slip-slid to the undignified bottom and outraged with it; now we're in well-worn broken-in skin-warm sad, where it's almost too familiar to be disappointing and unhelpfully easy to fall asleep. Known-sad, accepted-sad, unproductive-sad, unsolvable-sad. Someday I'll be better at this 'living' thing; until then I'll sit still and wait for April and try not to dislodge any more sadvalanches.