For the last few days, I’ve felt shaken and tired. I’ve been haunting the comfy chairs in the loft of the public library, drifting up the hill to sit at the base of a tree in the cemetary, walking along the tops of high brick walls on the hill at the college like balance beams. I have been thinking too much.

Two days ago, when I got home, I locked myself in the attic. Cried a little, snacked on dark chocolate, drank Irish whiskey (plenty) straight out of the bottle, listened to old albums full of melancholy songs, wrote out a poem with a similar vibe. I cleaned my room all the way to the corners, and then I read a practical guide on using unexpected stratagies to take down entire dictatorships with as little collateral damage as possible. As one does.

(I really should go back and read the Watch books, again, some of these days.)

By the time I let myself out of the attic, I was feeling much steadier.

This evening, I drove through the snow and the far-too-early darkness to pick up some dumplings from the restaurant in the little town at the edge of the lake. The car was almost out of gasoline, and it was cold enough to need gloves between my fingers and the steering wheel. I got lost twice, even though I knew how to get where I was going. A radio program called Acoustic Café was playing, as I navigated twisted back roads in the dark. It helped me.

And, just like that, it is winter.

My family sat down together at the table, with the dog laying down under our feet, and we talked. That doesn’t happen as often as it used to. It was nice to have their company.

I haven’t been answering my phone. It hasn’t been ringing. That’s okay with me, right now.

I know I have friends. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not, to belong and be loved. I have loved ones who have seen me at my worst and still somehow bring out the best in me, without even knowing they’re doing it, without knowing how much it matters to me. There are people in this world who are worth staying alive for; not just staying alive, but really living…

I still don’t know how this happened. I am just glad that it did.

I hope it’s a good night.