Today

When I opened my eyes this morning I had the briefest of feelings like I was going to be normal today.  I would get out of bed, clean up the house, go to work and perhaps even run some errands.  I would function and accomplish something because today was going to be a good day.

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.