My husband and my therapist are both encouraging me to try and write something. My brain doesn't want to do it. Log dreams, my husband said this morning after I woke up from a particularly fraught dream. Log your moods, my therapist says, wanting me to remember that I have good days. I'm struggling. I don't find joy in anything. I'm having a hard time even putting these words in a row. I mark days by when I can next sleep. I mark weeks by Sundays...
