Today, I was drained before I even began. I was sapped and weary upon waking. My spoon drawer has been low and propensity for tears high. And yet I pushed myself to do. I couldn’t mope and wallow and cry, even though that was all I wanted to do. I threw myself into doing – cleaning, sorting, washing, tidying, preparing. Whatever it took to keep me moving when all I wanted was to lie down and be still.

Movement fights the fear. Doing battles the shadows that threaten my sleep. Exhaustion will hopefully quiet the dreams.