I phoned work at 5.30am to tell them I wouldn't be in today. I thought it was 6.30, and was wondering why the guy in Security was sounding so sleepy and surprised, bless him.
I haven't had enough sleep. Not just last night, but all week. That's what Post Traumatic Stress does. It robs you of things like sleep, of confidence, of faith.
Interestingly, we visited a church last week where the pastor spoke (at bum-numbing length) on faith, and how we keep it when we're "blindsided" by something (his word) which threatens to knock us off our perch. Before this I'd seen my faith as quite strong.
I'm tired. I'm not thinking rationally.
I had a meeting at work earlier this week about these problems, but nothing is as yet resolved.
I told them that some days, I just dread coming to work.
They nodded.
I explained that, having to cycle 12 miles with a heart full of dread was massively different to a 15 minute car ride with the radio on.
They looked nonplussed.
How can someone who has never cycled to work have the slightest clue what I'm on about?
I've gone on at length in previous posts about what a joy and a privilege it is to have that hour first thing in the morning when it's just me and the bike, but just now, I'm finding it impossible to even get on my bike to start the journey.
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