Storms

I live with storms inside my head, and sometimes, the lightning crashes through my brain as though all the electric bulbs in the world flashed on at the same time. Most people love Friday nights. I usually crash from the mask I must wear all week long. Most people must think this is crazy. Am I? am I crazy? Or is it the world? My mind? My depression.

I don’t get dressed up Friday nights. I sleep. I try to regroup. I am grateful for them. “Have a good weekend,” people say to each other in the same way they say, “Have a good day!” I sleep on. Maybe one time I will tell you why. I will tell you the story of my big sleep and where I took me.