Tripped and fell
I fell down the well again. Not very far. If I looked up, I could see the top edge, and I just had to reach out and grab it to pull myself out.
Problem was, I was looking down, not up. Down into the darkness below.
Not far enough down that my non-bloggy friends could tell. I kept posting on Facebook. Not statuses, really, but other things. I kept doing my work. I didn’t lock myself indoors.
I even know how I got there. I hurt. My right foot is giving me so much trouble. I’ve had new orthotics casted but I don’t get them for another week and a half. I can walk, but I’m limping badly.
I got there, too, because the book I’m reading is dark. I suspend my disbelief very well sometimes, and when the fiction I read is dark, my mood gets dark.
And I got there, too, because changes are afoot in my life. Big changes. Big decisions. On one hand I’m excited and ready for the changes, but on the other, it’s scary, and I just want to jump into bed and hide under the covers until it goes away.
I’m not really all the way out, yet, either. I’m sitting on the edge of the well. One foot is in, and the other is out. I’m looking around, and deciding which way to fall. In, or out?
For now, I’m out.