On my darkest of days, I lie in bed all day and all night long. I don’t read, watch tv, or surf the internet. I lay in bed, sometimes asleep, sometimes awake, with the covers pulled up to my chin and sometimes over my head. These are the worst of all days; the days when my will to live has all but vanished.
I have not had a day like this in a long time.
Dark days, two or three steps above “my darkest of days”, are marked by my ability to get out of bed, if only to move to the couch. These are most days. The worst of the dark days involve only one thing on a consistent basis: knitting. It is how I know that somewhere in my imbalanced brain, there is hope. I knit, therefore I will continue to be and do. I knit, therefore I am.
This phase has come at a very good time. Eighty-eight sleeps until Christmas and I have quite a lot of Christmas knitting to do. We won’t discuss the fact that this hat is for me. 😡