There are days when the rain hitting the window is a perfect match for your internal weather system.
Yesterday was the most glorious blue-skied, fresh-breezed springlike day. I hated it. I felt mocked by it, closed in by these bloody hills. I just wanted to be somewhere far away, walking along a beach, alone. And at the same time, I hated myself even more, for hating this beautiful day, and failing to live it better.
I am struggling. I’m restless, but don’t have the mental energy to go anywhere. I’m lonely, but I can’t find the words to talk to anyone. I’m worried sick about the list of things that Must Be Done, but can’t organise my thoughts enough to start a task, never mind finish it…
In fact, the only thing I like about today is my knitting. I am charmed by the simplicity of the stripes, the unlikely beauty of its greyness. Most of all, I appreciate just how many mindful stitches it’s going to take me to knit myself an entire jumper on 3 mm needles.