The past couple of days haven't been particularly conducive to writing due to a combination of not sleeping well, early starts and manic days caused by major issues and outages.
And then we can add to that being bombarded by continual bad news despite trying to avoid it.
The world is a roiling sea of disquiet, disharmony and disturbance - my RSS reader is full of outrage, and rightly so - but I just don't have the cognitive capacity to process any of it, let alone come out with something constructive.
I know that sounds like an excuse, a cop out: "centering" as described by Sarah K Peck but I'm just trying to hold things together at the moment.
I know that I should be saying something, should be doing something, and maybe that something would take my mind off my own problems and help place them in perspective.
But I'm currently living in a perpetual duality: wishing half the day would be over in an instant and that the other half would last an eternity, and that latter half is tainted by knowing it's going to be just the same tomorrow.
It's not healthy.
The feeling of being trapped has returned and even though lockdown restrictions are being gradually lifted we still can't plan for the future properly.
It seems likely I'll be working from home until at least the end of September but this house really isn't a good fit for that - the longer this goes on the worse it gets. I see so many pieces of advice detailing how to better organise your work day, separate your work area, work in sprints and take regular breaks, but there is no room to distinguish work from home while my role is predominantly reactionary and I must be available. I have next to no control.
Things must change.
Still, I have to remind myself that I am relatively lucky, privileged even, and not in fear of my life for just being who I am. Even with my mental health issues I've never truly been at risk of harming myself, or worse, so can't even say I fear for my life in that regard. It has never been a serious option.
Despite everything I've got it easy by comparison.
I've been insulted and even threatened in the past for being white but these were isolated incidents rather than a persistent pattern of behaviour. Yes, it was unsettling but nothing compared to what is experienced by many and, while I can appreciate that some feel the need to riot because their voices are not heard by any other means, I can never claim to understand it, never claim to understand the pain, the insult, the isolation they experience.
How could I?
What I can do is try to ensure that I am not part of the problem, unwittingly or otherwise, and that's hard enough as it is.