I am lonely, yet I want to be left alone. I pace and pace while my mind churns, walking from room to room not ever knowing quite where to stop or what to do. I sit. I want to write but it’s as though I’m out of words and I want to hand over my brain to someone and say “here, this. This is what’s going on in here.” I’m tired. So absolutely tired.
I play a character just to get through the day, go through the motions and tell myself these down cycles pass. That it won’t last forever and I have to hang on until it clears, even if I don’t want to.