Time slips

Time is slipping. It doesn't feel like February. It doesn't feel like much time has passed at all. It just feels tired. 

It's coming up on six months. A half a year. That's a half of a year of my life, and I have no real idea where the time has gone. 

No real idea. 

I'm upright. I breathe. My nutrition has improved. I cry daily, but not usually hourly. And I have nothing real to show what I have done in six months besides just survived. 

Surviving is hard work.