untethered and weighed down

I'm struggling. Not sleeping much -- that's both a symptom and a cause. I've socialized more in the past week than I had in quite a while and I'm sure it has helped. But still I feel alone, alone, alone. Untethered. My head is aching and my eyes are heavy and dry, except when I am crying. Woe. Is. Me. 

Perfectly normal. The human condition. And yet. 

I was walking through Silver Terrace on my way to the farmers market last Saturday, thinking -- and maybe even talking -- to myself about Constance stringing me along like a needy girlfriend she doesn't want to deal with but isn't quite ready to dump. Resolving to find a new designer. Then I tripped over the raised edge of a sidewalk square. I had been walking down a fairly steep hill, so I couldn't right myself. I landed on my palms, and also on my right forearm; my left knee bore the brunt of the lower body impact. A man came out of his garage and asked me, worriedly, if I was alright and did I want a bottle of water. I waved him off -- I hope I did it politely. I kept walking, flexing and worrying about my knee and my right wrist and forearm. 

Later, when I went to bed, I realized that I had a sharp pain just below my right breast -- I had smashed my clip-on case when I landed and I guess it must have jabbed me in that spot. I haven't seen any discoloration or swelling. I think I bruised a rib (or two?). For several days it was painful to breathe deeply or do sit-ups. It still hurts, a week later. But it's healing. 

I thought about mom, of course. She keeps saying that they are providing us with a dry run for old age. I am on my way to old age, that's for sure.