Hello from Portland, Oregon, back at work after a lost week of being ill and losing my mind a little while.

I don't do well when I'm sick.

Not in the way that other people "don't do well when they are sick." I mean I lose my mind.

I'm not well. I've been solidly depressed since last November. And I need to acknowledge that. I need to accept that. I have to accept that I don't have to be the strong one anymore. That I can accept care, at some level.

I'm writing this in a .txt file on my work computer. I am writing this under the buzzing overhead lighting that was installed while I was gone, overwhelming and bright. I'm writing this in a giant room alone because I am not allowed to work in a small space with definite boundaries, but in a farm of partitions. There is no privacy in business. There is only boredom, and sometimes, work.

I am depressed. Not "I am feeling down." I am in a serious clinical depression. Better than I was last week (Thursday, I broke. I sat in my car for an hour unable to move. The world ringing. The pointless whistle of a shattered world around me.). I've been here before, but this one is longer than it's ever been. If I was honest, it's been since last November. There have been glimmers of joy in there, don't get me wrong. But the world broke when Graye died, when my career died. I'm not ok.

Setting intentions for the upcoming year. I have a calendar coming that starts in November, so I am going to try to do a full year's worth of writing again. Have my own year. The 33rd as a poet. Not miss a day. As much as I hate that I'm a creature of habit, it is who I am.

Things to look forward to this week:

-New library after work. Albina library. Clatter myself against a keyboard for a while.

-Action Princess by Juliet and the East on Friday (Halloween).

-Coffee with a friend to talk ritual work, once my body is my own again.

-Set up the morning poetry space by getting:
-Calendar
-New edition of In the Palm of Your Hand: A Poet's Portable Workshop by Steve Kowit (my old one seems to have disappeared into the mystery of too many moves).
-The New Yorker Anthology of Poetry (first one I've seen in a while that includes poetry from the 21st century).

-Early mornings with coffee and words.

-Figuring out new ways to keep myself sane at work. Steal from the bosses the work that gives you a soul.

-Driving my dear friend Rachel to her bottom surgery appointment on Thursday. I've driven her to every gender affirming surgery that she has had. It is my absolute pleasure to be that driver. Get up at 3 a.m., drive her to the wonder.

There are things to be hopeful for. There are wonders out here, in the dark. I try to remember. But my brain sure finds ways to push off that joy.

My boss came in 2 hours earlier than usual, so I've got to go. I hope you are all well. I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you know.

Misha Lynn Moon