It's early in the morning. Really early, way earlier than I should be up. It looks like it might be raining, but I can't be sure. I'm sitting at my computer, looking out the window behind it, and trying to decide if it's a light rain falling or just the tiny lines of the window screen playing tricks on my eyes. I could get up, I could actually stand up and peer out for a wider look, but I think I don't really want to know. I think I want to pretend it's not, pretend that the sun is coming up in the east, behind the blanket of clouds that sits there, waiting to break.
I can already tell today is going to be the sort of day inside my head, inside my chest, where rain will make it impossible to do anything more than shower and make breakfasts, make lunches, make dinner, do bedtime. I hate these days; I know them well. My bed is calling me back and I want to go, pull the covers up and wait to wake up not feeling like this, wait to wake up and feel normal, which has happened over the last few months far more often than not, this waking and feeling normal.
But this is not one of those days, this is one where the minute my eyes I open, I know.
Oh fuck, I think, rolling over and tucking my knees up to my chest. Today is one of those 'just-get-through-the-day-till-it's-over' sort of days. It's the feeling of treading water with something tugging on your foot from below the surface. My heart is racing, ready to burst through my chest, but my body is sluggish and heavy and I'm not convinced I can move it. It's a feeling of dread.
But now I'm sitting here, trying to figure out if it's really raining or if my eyes just think it is because that's how it looks from the narrow view I have. The leaves look dry, but the sky is gray.
The only thing left to do now is to get up, and actually look out the window and see what's really there and what isn't.
In a minute.