The Bad Time always comes. It’s cyclical and I never know when it’s going to hit, but I can usually sense it coming within a few days of its arrival. When it first hits me, generally, I can fight it off if I try hard enough and if I can find people with whom I can ride the waves. Eventually, though, the Bad Time becomes too overwhelming to ignore. Usually, it waits until I am having a good time and then it is triggered by something, often something meaningless, and I become debilitatingly depressed.
This time, the Bad Time hit me in San Cristobal. After going to a wine bar and having probably a bottle or so of wine, we went to a club for some dancing and additional drinks. I didn’t drink at this club, but I was still having a good time. Then, the Bad Time came on like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. I was by myself, outside of the club, for about ten minutes and couldn’t overcome the feelings of sadness and loneliness that for some reason choose random moments to appear. This happens to me with less frequency than it used to, and I have a lot of experience with it, but it frightens me when it happens because I know that I’m not functioning with a fully rational mind when it happens. It often hits me while I’m drinking. (I know, right? Alcohol-induced depression. Who would have thought such a thing possible?) As I’ve always done in these situations, I went “Darkman” as a friend of mine used to call it. I just left. Went home. No good-byes. No nothing. I just bolted.
It wasn’t easy to get to sleep but eventually I did. The next day was a free day in San Cristobal, so that made the Bad Time easier. The last thing I want to do during the Bad Time is to be around anybody. I just want to be alone. I walked around San Cristobal and stopped in a couple of shops and restaurants, but I couldn’t eat because there is no appetite during the Bad Time. I took some pictures but eventually went back to the hotel because, for the first time during the entire trip, we had a thunderstorm. Even the weather was going through the Bad Time. (I did get to happen through this random parade, though, going through the Zocalo. I thought that was pretty cool.)
That evening people went out to a Thai restaurant to get some dinner. I blew that off, grabbed a bottle of wine and hung out by myself for a change. I can’t say for sure that it helped at all but it didn’t seem to make anything worse.
The next day we headed to Palenque. On the way, we were going to stop at a couple of waterfalls for some swimming. This was a horrible thing to do during the Bad Time. There was just no way to get away from people and the Bad Time was at its worst. I just listened to my iPod for about four hours until we got to Agua Azul, which was the only waterfall we ended up visiting. I walked with the group until it got to the place where everybody was going to swim. Then, I walked away and avoided the group for the next three-and-a-half hours. The Bad Time was ruining the day and there was no way for me to avoid it.
At night, I tried to come out to dinner with the group. I hadn’t eaten in a few days, and I still wasn’t hungry, but I thought I’d give company a shot. Once again, I had no dinner, but I did have some beer and ended up drinking myself into a better mood. The night didn’t end well, but I felt like I was recovering at least. Anyway, I think the worst part of this episode of the Bad Time has passed.
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