I can’t think of my word. I feel as though I am made of glass. The world feels too big and too loud. I am scared at how scared I feel. I wanted a clean-slate, a fresh-start, a do-over, but I feel like I am back in the hole. I can’t sleep. My dreams leave me breathless. I can’t let go. I wonder if he ever thinks of me. I wish I didn’t care so much. Sometimes I wonder how I got here. Doing this work. I don’t feel very good about how I have handled some things. I know I am stressed. I am trying to figure it out. I know I need to stay in the moment, take each day as it comes, trust it will be ok. Know I am not alone.
I have found myself praying in the wee small hours: tell me what to do.
Something comes back, always the same.