I have these fears. They snuggle up on my heart for the long haul. They ask me when I’ll succeed at something. They ask me when I won’t be alone anymore. And they get mad when I don’t have answers, when I can’t justify all the time I waste.
In the past life fell into place for me. The puzzle was complete, the crevices filled in. The job. The boy. The passion.
And then it was torn apart, broken down. Void of any direction. I was standing at a four way intersection and I just sat down.
I sat down.
Because what do you do when suddenly lightening strikes down and tears out your normal? What do you do when your dumped unannounced on a street corner full of questions? Decisions harassing your mind? I sat down.
Those fears have a pillow and blanket now. They’re comfortably focused on staying. And because I can’t find the words to tell them to go, it seems I’ve given them permission to stay. To drill me with thoughts of you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, you shouldn’t. To prevent me from moving forward and finding my way.
I sat down two years ago this October. Will I ever get back up?