It comes unbidden. No event set it off. Nothing lingers in my heart that justifies it. Perhaps it’s seasonal or cyclic. It doesn’t matter.
I feel the sadness leeching through my life. My body slows. My mind wanders. Work comes much more slowly to me. I am sad. I am so very tired.
It’s inexplicable. The sadness is not my own. Perhaps it comes from chemical imbalances in my brain. Perhaps it comes from the cloud-covered sky. Perhaps it comes from the grayness taking over the landscapes that surround me. But it is not my own. It’s not mine.
I try to think of the last time I took a full day off. I can’t be sure. I suspect it was around my latest graduation. It’s time to do it again. I have to. This time, it’s around the Thanksgiving holiday, starting a little before, ending a little after. It’s a good time for it. At least, the pressure to work is less. The pressure to produce scholastic material is less.
Still, I hear me telling myself to snap out of it. I need to snap out of it. And I do…for a while. I do something. Go shopping. Wash, fold, put away laundry. Organize the coming day. I stay awake to start the morning right for my children. I wait for the time to wake them up and get them ready for their big day back to school.
Then, I’ll sleep. I’ll wake. I’ll get back to work. I’ll work away this sadness that is not my own. I won’t claim it. It’s not mine. I let it wash through me and wash out of my system. Then, I’ll push on. That’s the plan. I hope, as I always hope, that this time it won’t drag me down. I pray that this won’t be the time I fall and cannot pull myself back up.
I’ve been there. I will go there again. I know that. I accept that. But it won’t be this time. It won’t be this day. Not yet.