There are days like today when I feel like all the strength in me is just depleted. I get up and go through the mundane everyday activities but there is no joy in anything I do. It’s like I am walking through an endless winter. I’m cold and the clothing I have on is too little and too light for the bitter cold wind that engulfs me as I walk down a street that is much too cold and dark and unending.
There is light around me, only glimmers of it and still they are out of my reach. The houses are cold and grey and their shutters are closed so that the light is kept in, away from the darkness and the cold that is out on the street I walk on. I know that all around me there is life but I am not living nor dead. I am just empty and colder than the air around me. I am walking, I am always walking, untouchable and unfeeling.
If someone were to look at me from the outside they would presume that I am fine, that I am hanging in there but they will never understand that it is only by a thread, that at any moment it can snap and I will fall, I will fall deep into nothingness where I cannot be heard or seen or felt. These are my grey days as I like to refer to them as. Days when the sky is as grey as the way I feel. Days when there is so little that can comfort me. Days when the sun literally hides its face from me.