Blanketed

I'm exhausted this morning. I slept very little last night, waking often.

I'm holding onto the truths I've so successfully rested in for the last couple of weeks by the very tips of my fingers, and even that feels like it's slipping.

I feel like a bit of black cloud has dropped over me in the last couple of days - blanketing me in darkness, freezing me in place, adding fear and sleeplessness.

I'm needing a hug, and to chat with a couple people on the phone.

I know myself well enough to know that this happens once a month or so, and that this too, will pass, but it still stinks in the midst of it.

It's hard to fight, hard to find motivation, hard to just keep pushing forward when it requires such effort.

I'm going to a concert tonight with Megs and my brothers. Keith Urban, with The Wreckers opening. Yes, I just publicly admitted to enjoying country music. Always have, probably always will. I'm looking forward to the time with my bros, and with Megs, and even to the music. I know I'll have a great time once I get there, but, to be honest, from the vantage point of the morning, sitting at my desk, sipping passion tea from Starbucks, it seems like far too great an effort to get there and be around people.

I've hit that space in the month where I just want to hole up and be alone for hours on end. My roommate, J. was watching Grey's Anatomy on dvd last night. I love Grey's. I watched for an hour or so before she got home, but not too long after she got home, I headed for the shower and then holed up in my bedroom to read and pray. There are very few people I want to be around when I feel like this, and right now, almost none of those people live in the same city as me. So, for the rest of the evenings this week? Time alone - reading, surfing the net, maybe watching a movie, praying.