Tonight is my psych appointment, and I am scared.

I do not want to polish that until it behaves. I am scared. Tired too. Nervous about being honest and nervous about not being honest enough. Nervous about being misunderstood, dismissed, overreacted to, underreacted to, or turned into a problem someone else thinks they can summarize in three bullet points and a prescription refill.

The heat is not helping. 96° feels like the world has its thumb pressed into everything. Air too much. Body too much. Thoughts too much. No wonder the cards came out carrying anvils.

Ten of Swords reversed feels like trying to climb out of something that already hurt. Not healed. Not fine. Just no longer face-down in the worst of it.

King of Pentacles reversed is the fear that my stability is not stable enough. Medication, money, home, work, safety, functioning. All the responsible little columns that can look upright while something inside is chewing through drywall.

Five of Cups is grief. Plain, mean, familiar. Looking at what spilled and wondering whether the remaining cups are enough.

Siren asks where I have been making the warning sound softer so nobody gets alarmed.

The Fallen is the bruised part. The would-be martyr. The powder keg wearing a customer-service voice.

Darkness is the place where visibility is bad and pretending I can see clearly would be a lie.

So the message for tonight is blunt: go in honest, specific, and unromantic.

Do not catastrophize. Do not sand the edges off either.

I am not going there to prove I am fine.

I am going there to get support while I am climbing out.

I can say what has been happening. The ups and downs. The fear. The edge-of-vision things. The intense sleep, dreams, moods. I can say I am trying very hard, and trying hard is not the same as being okay.

I do not need to package that into something prettier.

Tonight, honesty is the safest harbor.