And when I say "swimming" through the days I in no way mean that things are going along swimmingly. Although, in many respects, they are. In other, more serious respects, they are not.
Winter represses. It pushes. Down. The days are short, and daylight, so rare and precious, seems dark too. Sleep is one antidote. But then, even in sleep, your dreams will find you, your heartbeat will find you, roaring in your ears, a loud lion, jaws open, determined to be heard.
4am has once again found me, awake, worried, and praying, and curled up in sheets and blankets, trying to keep the fear out.
I get up, it's easier than staying in bed at this point.
I have work to do.
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