There’s something about the sun setting that kicks the recollection/memory and/or questioning/analyzing parts of my brain into high gear. “I just want to go to bed without any bullshit, can we please not do this” I beg. I can feel it laughing at me because it knows that I know. We’re doing this. Even if just for a few minutes, we’re doing this. I sigh and give in. But not without a little bit of fight. “I’ll just write something, fuck you!’ is what I tell my brain.
My mind is restless tonight. I’ve gone a few days without crying, perhaps my body just doesn’t know how to function without the tears. Just another thing I have connected with and associated with my every day that I’m suffering withdrawals from now. My mind attaches so easily, I fear I can’t be a separate person outside those connections. I crave routines, I create them, yet I fear them at the same time as they are so easily disrupted. Without the routine, I am aimless. Depression swoops in and takes it’s place, mixed with a sprinkling of confusion. Where am I, what am I missing? Oh, that’s right, I remember now. I abandoned the routine. Or it abandoned me. Regardless, I am alone. Whether I’m surrounded by people or not, I’m still desperately lonely without the familiar.
It’s not that the tears aren’t there. They are, I can feel them. But they are caught up on something. I am unsure what is blocking them so I have no idea how to remove the barrier.
Apparently that is all my brain needed. Was to get something out, something in black and white that I could look at and say “see…I dealt with it.”
Those tears never came. Sleep did, though. And then, as it always does, the sun came up, too.
Brand new day. Let’s go, bitches!