a lifetime stretched out into Manchester albums--
a girl at the gym with all the other people who can't sleep tonight, running,
a man she still loves after 5 years of sleeping in separate towns.

Sobriety turned out to be less glamorous than we thought, and depression came back in 2017. It ate me alive and it still eats me alive. Mostly it hurts at night. It hurts in my arm, and in my neck and in my ankles, and in my hair, and then my chest is just a cave full of bats. It's a bookcase full of horror novels.  It's a small, small world inside of a---
And then I'm fine in the morning and I show up to work mostly on time.

This week I'm staying in the woods on the mountain and it's really pretty.
I'm grateful for the cold nights and heavy quilts,
for friends and family. For re-reading White Noise by Don DeLillo. For an entire bag of cookies that this lady left for me in the house-in-the-woods. 
Thanking God for m e d i c i n e. Sweet beautiful pharmaceuticals.