But something happened between that flash and the time I got coffee in my cup. Nothing actually happened, except for that shift that occurs when suddenly I remember where I am and who I am and begin to feel overwhelmed with all the simple mundane tasks it will take to get any of that shit done.
I am sinking again. I am sinking and not doing a damn thing to try to bale water. I am feeling that filthy sludge coming up over my ankles and bearing down on my knees but I am too tired and terrified to move. "Let me just sit here for a minute," I think. But then a minute turns to hours and hours turn to days and what was at first a puddle becomes a dark murky swamp and I realize I no longer have the option to just move. It has become thick like quicksand and I am sinking again.
Of course, I will try to get up. I will try to shower. If that goes okay, I will leave the house, if only to pick L up from school. I will come home and attempt to engage her in some kind of show of enjoying her company. And I will only do these things because EVERYONE tells me I should and that it will help - even though in my experience it is not likely.
I have learned that I have to sometimes let this thing run its course.
