I thought I was doing all right today, and then I looked in the mirror. It's the eyes. My eyes are droopy, thick-lidded, nearly closed. My face looks... tired. I look like I'm half asleep. If you saw me on the street, you might think I was stoned. (I'm not.) They're the kind of eyes that you wear cheap sunglasses to hide. I'm not sure what I'd do with sunlight right now, but I'd probably not like it. I'm feeling all of a sudden, looking at the clock, feeling really isolated and alone. I have an assignment due at midnight, and I can't seem to get started working on it.
I can't seem to start thinking about it much less working on it. It's actually an interesting and relevant assignment... but it's as if right now I'm watching myself type these words, knowing they're going out to the rest of the world, and I can neither stop typing them or change what's being typed.
I'm trying to picture the world outside without opening the blinds, but I cannot see it. I know, or at least think I know, that it's out there, but I can't picture it, can't grab hold of it and say yes, it's really there. It's like nothing exists but here, in the middle of a cluttered apartment that I want to get cleaned up.
Somewhere in all of this is the realization that I'm really in rough shape, but I can't seem to get a grip on that either. I can't seem to get a grip on anything. I just see my eyes looking back at me in the mirror, heavy and almost closed, and I'm not sure I recognize myself.
Tomorrow is another day. I'm going to try again tomorrow. Just like yesterday.