I don’t know what to write or say. Nothing happened, that I know of. Yet somehow my chest is tight and my stomach is in knots. My body feels weak and my head feels like it’s running in slow motion. Moving is hard. Talking is harder. Every minute feels heavy in it’s own way. How long is this going to last?

Am I going to be a distant mom tonight? A distant partner? Will I feel like this on my weekend trip to Lake Geneva? Or will it go away? I don’t know. I never know. All I know is right now I want to be home in my bed asleep or at least have my eyes closed. I want to tune out the rest of the world and everyone in it. However, that simply is not an option. Not an option because I have to work, I have my daughter, and I know that would not benefit my mental health either.

What helps, most of the time, is pushing through. Making small accomplishments throughout my day that make me feel like a normal and productive human.

A plan:

I can try not to drink tonight. Alcohol is a depressant and I’ve had too much of it lately.

I can try to read tonight. Something healthy to distract my brain.

I can try to write tonight, because that always lifts some of the weight off my body.

These are my goals. And it is what it is.