Empty spaces
I don't think I've really existed in the last week.
On Monday, like a tsunami, a giant wave of depression washed over me. If a tree falls in a forest with no one to hear, and it doesn't make a sound, then I wasn't much of a person in the last five or six days. Like some lonely electron I've switched between quantum states of sad or asleep. I have slept so much in the last week, but here I am, still exhausted.
Or, at least, I think I am exhausted. It's so hard to trust anything I think or feel right now. I'm so disconnected. The tsunami warnings have been sounding for a while: a gradually increasing sense of disconnection, everything suddenly becoming so much harder, a growing sense of despair, and Those Thoughts.
I think the worst is over, I think it's time to claw my way back. In some ways I don't really have any choice: I have no more leave left now, I have to visit my family and be social next weekend, I have to eat some proper food.
I have to exist. I can't be empty any more.