Behind on posting (missed three days) so this is a back-dated post and I don't know how reliably i will remember things.
Here is what I do remember: there was a period of time during this day (note that I don't refer to the ENTIRE day) where I felt happy on the surface on top of a layer of sinking emptiness.
I don't mean that I was pretending to be happy. I was really happy. It just didn't quite make it through to all the layers. Like something that hasn't had time to defrost and only the outer layers are thawed.
And the sinking emptiness was not around any particular issue. It just felt like the foundation. It felt true. It felt like The Way Things Are. It also felt uncomfortable and unpleasant and unsettling.
Stayed up VERY RIDICULOUSLY LATE because I was unable to give up on a problem.
Still wrestling with linux (which I don't understand at all) and decided to stay up just until I figured something out. Which I never did. And eventually had to go to sleep.
Did not take meds.
Did not pass go.
Quaker, teacher, parent,