The Door

Week 1
Up at 6:15am. It was part of the routine but now there was no reason.
Days drug on for three times as long it seemed and moving my body required effort that was never there before
I showed up to where I was needed and no one asked for more. I silently appreciated it.
The door stayed firmly shut

Week 2
I still wake at 6:15am but unlike before sleep finds me again when I lay back down.
The days no longer drag but a hollowness as settled in. Food doesn't have a taste and I can remember what the sun feels like.
Trying to sleep gave way to memories of before and longing for a future that simply wasn't an option, yet naps were still the best way to fill the time so I took them. Every day at noon...then 4...then 8...and finally it was time for bed.
As tired as I was there were tears in abundance. Nerve wracking screams that I couldn't recognize as me.
I bolstered the courage to open the door and was swiftly reminded why it was kept shut.
Before I could react I was ushered out and the sound of the door slamming shut echoed

Week 3
I sleep until noon now unless responsibilities dictate otherwise.
I received a hug from a little less than a stranger. I went home and cried.
Sobbing under heavy blankets I begged for relief but I was told there was only time...so I cried harder
After that anger set it. Festering and seething. Despite everything still feeling grey there were licks of red in the most unexpected places now.
It's been long enough, I'm expected to be myself now so with ground teeth, searing headaches and a chest filled with heat I was.
Every night I glared at the door.

Week 4
I cooked. It's been a month and I didn't want to but the recipe was easy, even more importantly it took time. I needed to fill the time. My body ached from sleeping.
The food was good. For the first time in a long time a lightness filled me. I felt accomplished.
My eyes set upon the door and I knew what my next task had to be.
Opening it flooded me but there was nobody there to usher me out now.
I cleaned.
My vision was blurred and there was a tightness in my chest as my body carried me through the motions until it was done.
It was an illusion truly, one easily undone with a closer look.
Bins lined the walls filled with mementos.
A closet full of hundreds of unworn things.
A dresser adorned with trinkets and lotions.
And though it's easier as I refuse to look closer.
I shut the door once again.