Today is a wet, grey, soggy, overcast, dank, dark day in Oregon. The lilacs and wisteria are blooming, which helps things a bit, but having the sky be steel grey without a horizon doesn't. Nor does the fact it is May and I have had to bring in more pellets for the wood stove so that my fingers don't freeze on the keyboard. Everything in the house, even with the heat on, smells sort of damp...probably because it is.
The weather reflects my feelings.
I'm weary and I'm worn. I'd go to bed, but I'm not really sleepy. Just tired.
Tired of telling people that I'm just fine and getting better every day. While, on some level, it's true; I am fine and I am getting better, people tend to expect more fine and more better than I am.
Tired of feeling like life is a series of endless grey days without a horizon.
Tired of seeing so many things that need to be done and not having the energy or inclination to do them.
Tired of being tired.
I think it's just part of the Griefwalk.