Days Like Today

Last week my mom pulled me
aside at a Mother's Day party and asked me if I was ok.
What she really meant to ask was
"are you still taking your medication."
I reply
"yes, I am fine."
Even though it's not the truth.
I should have told her that these recent
nights have ended in nothing but lying
on the kitchen floor immersing myself in a
bottle of vodka and
thinking about the things I could
have been doing instead of this.
I should have told her that this
is the first time I've been out of bed
for weeks.
I should have told her that most days
I am not fine.
Most days my bed is a black hole
I have to force myself out of.
I should have told her some days I am fine
but on those days
I have to work really hard
for it to be that way.
 And some days I am too tired to even
get out of bed.
And on those days I don't even try.
 I don't even get out of bed.
I don't even try to talk.
I don't try to lie.
On those days I'm too exhausted to do anything.
Too tired to say I'm fine.