Someone asked where I was and I suppose I should answer but I wasn't sure if they meant physically, emotionally or spiritually so maybe I shouldn't answer at all?
Physically I'm lying in bed watching Vogue's 73 questions (every now and then I catch up) and the Olympic figure skating and playing Christmas Mansion 3, still hoping that by next Christmas my village is ready at long last. I should have started this game last April instead of after Halloween but I persevere.
I'm so jacked out on pills I can't feel a thing. It's good, this. The alternative is feeling too much, too deep, too hard and I can't. Not strong enough. Will never be strong enough and I hate that things change. Just when you get comfortable. Just when you think you can take a breath some part of your life, your comfort-mechanism gets yanked out of your heart and there's a huge hole. A huge one, so big you fall in every time you take a step forward and you climb out and try again and the sunsets hurt and the sunrise is so hopeful until you remember and death is a horrible thing but it's the only certainty, ever and here it is again because I got too comfortable, I guess.
I'll be okay, I just might not post or I might post all the time. The only promises I make are to those around me, as always. I was already in a hole of sorts. This fashioned a lid for the hole and I was already inside and it took days to crawl out. I pulled my sweater around me and went for my booster shot and they played Lady and The Tramp in the waiting room for fifteen minutes afterward but I couldn't think about it. They gave me another sticker and now my arm is sore. I've lost five pounds from ignoring everything Lochlan tries to get me to eat and I just want to know when this won't feel so awful.
Don't worry. It wasn't one of my precious boys.