Reinforcing, though not accountable for, the mood are three things. First: I've spoken to no one since Friday evening except for the man who delivered my flowers yesterday afternoon (a wonderful, welcome surprise) and the girl who delivered my pizza last night, and those were not long conversations. This much literal solitude is both instructive and dangerous. Second: although I've been nearly desperate to drink--for no specific reason that I can put my finger on--supplies are low and it was absolutely beyond me to have someone else bring alcohol to me. It's just as well, considering the damage I can do to myself when I haven't been drinking. And third, and probably most significantly: I've been informed just now that a branch has broken off my family tree. Not entirely unexpectedly, but it's still a blow of sorts. It makes me wonder what is real, what is permanent (or even trustworthy), whether anything merits leaning on or if it really is better to be completely self-contained. As much as it is possible to be.
[title quotation from "Anna Molly", one of the songs on that mix, by Incubus]