frozen

I’ve had so many good days lately. This is the worst I’ve felt in three months. 

It’s not quite 7 pm, and all I want to do is lay down. 

My kids are climbing on me, and I’m frozen like a concrete statue, but one with tears. 

Life feels like a bombardment although there’s nothing “really wrong”. 

In my heart I know why this is seeping out, showing itself in stomach aches, facial tics, fatigue in my bones. 

When will it be over? 

When will I be past it? 

When will the dark, oppressing force within me be gone? 

I just really want to start over. Move to another state and change my name. Erase my extended family tree. Construct a new one, or just don’t have one at all. 

This pain clenches me in its jaws. 

It tells me I am not good. Not worthy. Always lacking. Different and unlovable. 

In June I finally, for the first time in my entire life, told myself I am worthy and believed it. I still do, mostly. Just not in this moment. 

I’m on edge when I see a man with his frame and white hair. 

I’m on edge when she texts me updates of her codependency. 

Alternating between negative self talk and protective thoughts of not being alive, I’m scared and overwhelmed. 

Now this is getting too long. I’m being dramatic. Nothing has been “that bad”.

I don’t want to hate myself, and I don’t want to be afraid. 

Loneliness clouds all I can see  


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