...and the night closed in.

Night time used to be my favorite time of the whole day. When I was in high school, I loved the time I would spend alone in my room while the house slept around me. I would usually talk to folks on instant messenger while I was getting ready for bed and then I would settle in with my 47 different pillows and a good movie. Many nights, though, I would spend at least a little bit of time writing. Just writing... about nothing and everything. Getting my heart out there on the page. There was time for it then and I needed it; I loved every second of it. Getting all that angst and passion, love or lust, sometimes anger, sometime jealousy, sometimes just nonsense out of me for a little while.

So many times still... all I want to do is pour myself out of an ink pen. It's the call of the open page that I long for so often, but there just aren't enough hours in the day. These 11-o'clock-and-later blog entries certainly show the truth of that.

But I didn't really sit down with the intention of writing about my writing habits and lack thereof. I sat down with the intention of just writing about normal life stuff in a helpless, grasping-at-straws sort of way to regain some normalcy in this brain of mine.

I planted flowers in my window boxes today. Celosia in the long one under the livingroom windows (to go with the begonias which were already there); pink and white impatiens paired up with asparagus ferns in the 2 shorter ones. They look nice... we'll see if I can keep them watered throughout the summer. Maybe it won't be as hot and dry as it was last year.

The rest of the day prior to that was uneventful... just the normal never-ending cycle of laundry interjected with the occasional dishes and Scotty-tending.

We did get to go hang out with my sister's kids while she and my bro-in-law went out for the night, and that was fun. It had been a really long time since I'd spent such a long time with the 3 of them. My niece fell asleep on me before we left, which reminds me of the Thanksgiving after she was born. She would have been nearing the 2 month mark and she fell asleep on my chest after lunch. I think I fell asleep, too. That seems like a lifetime ago. She'll be 4 in October. She was playing with her kitchen set tonight and I asked her if she was making my birthday cake. She informed me that it was not my birthday, so I asked her if she knew when my birthday was... and she said, "NEXT TO MINE!" Hehe... hers is the 8th, mine is the 18th. She's a sweetheart.

And then we came back home and it was dark and the day was over.

Depression or something grey and creeping has been an all-too-familiar companion these past months. I don't have any desire to be jubilantly happy every second of every day, but I know there was a time when I felt like there was some hope for tomorrow. My mind is weary with racing and my heart is tired of living in the shadows.

Night comes at least once every 24 hours for me and I watch each time as it approaches knowing that this will be one more time that I struggle to stay in the light as darkness closes in.

Night time used to be my favorite time of the whole day. But it's not anymore.