I am fine

I wake and feel the all-too-familiar weight of life on my brain, the dark cloud has returned. I am fine. I will myself from bed, robotically dress and prepare for the day. I am fine. I stand at the door, do I really have to leave the house today? My actions are the answer, as I push my body - one foot in front of the other - to the car and away we go. I am fine. I don't normally drink coffee, but it suddenly seems like a good idea - jumpstart the brain, yes, I say and join the snake of cars at Starbucks. It is bitter to taste, but I force it down. I am fine. Smiles and chatter assault me as I find my seat and setup. I am fine. I answer the many questions about weekend and current weather with no memory of what was said. I am fine. I stare at the screen, joining all meetings via Zoom, why am I here? I am fine. Problems arise that are quickly addressed, my stomach grumbles. I am fine. I avoid the lunch invitations and sit quietly in my car in a parking lot down the street, consuming food that is not good for me, but is greatly satisfying today. I am fine. Afternoon meetings whiz by as people flee the building early to 'avoid traffic'. The office is now quiet with most gone. I am fine. I force myself to wait until after 5 to leave, creeping out the back door to avoid the remaining prisoners. I am fine. Traffic is a mess, but easily navigated. The car returned safely to garage, I close the door behind me and flip shoes across the room. I am fine.