I am bone tired.
I wish I could say that I were coming down with a cold. Or that I didn't sleep well. Or that it's a familiar depression, because it's not that.
If I were more awake I could maybe find something better than that old chiche, bone tired. But this morning, it's resonating with me. The sound of it, Bown, feels right. The weight in my back, not on it, but deep inside my shoulders and back, below the muscles, is tiring. My head feels too large for my neck. And I keep thinking, "Bone tired. Tired in the bones. Bones which make you tired. So tired it lives in the bones. Bone tired."
It's not depression, I've become an expert in ferreting out the first signs of a depressive attack. My vision goes kind of grey, and I get this weird tunnel-vision, zoom out, dolly out kind of contraction where the thing I'm looking at suddenly gets very very small and I seem to be acres away. My mind keeps telling me all the things I should be doing, but somehow everything is fuzzy. I can't decide anything, and my body feels thick and fuzzy too. I lose the ability to name things: "Can you hand me the, the thing? No. The long thing with the brushie things on the bottom? Right. The Broom." I never feel fully tired and I never feel fully awake. Just fuzzy.
This morning is not that--but in a scary way, it would be OK if it were that. I would know what to do. Obviously, if I could go back to bed, then maybe a nap would help. But I'm not sure. I think this morning is stress and fear.
I'm in a fight, and deep down I know I'm doing "the right thing." I've been fighting this thing quietly, sometimes respectfully, and sometimes cattily for two years. This week though there have been veiled threats made to a colleague, including feces and swastikas, and not to long ago I received an anonymous letter asking that I move out of town.
I don't want to make this into a mystery novel, "If you never hear from me again, be sure to use this safe deposit key and there you will find the name of the killer." We're not anywhere near that level of intrigue or danger. But it does make me tired.