If I had the answers I would tell you.
It’s like someone put my brain through a colander and all the good stuff fell through the holes.
It’s like someone put a stone in each of my feet so it’s hard for me to leave my bed.
It’s like walking through treacle where each time you lift a foot you feel more stuck.
Sometimes it feels heavy and crushing. Sometimes it soars like a giant bird in the sky hovering over my head.
It’s not great. It’s not ideal.
It’s not quite unpleasant. Or entirely intolerable.
But it is very much there.
Like storm clouds. Constant storm clouds.
Vultures circling my thoughts.