Thursday, January 11, 2018
I feel tightly wound, as if I might burst if I stub my toe or the toast burns.
These are symptoms of a larger problem: not knowing the future.
I feel like I'm drowning. Anyone else out here trying to swim with me?
I feel ashamed that I'm unraveling. I had several phone calls today where I lost my shit and cried.
My chest constantly feels tight.
I feel scared. I feel unsure. I feel like screaming. And sleeping.
I feel happy and calm and boppin' listening to Brother Ali's "pray for me." What would we do without music?
I feel like I constantly need to take a deep breath.
I feel like I need to make some changes.
I feel helpless.
I feel hopeful (that's the music coursing through my body.)
I feel like I have to unload This, thus this. This is my deep breath.
I feel like my 30's shouldn't be like this (read: still not together.)
I know should is a pointless word. I am where I am. There is no should.
I know tomorrow will come.
I know I have people who love me
(I feel grateful down to my toes for those people.)
I know we will be ok.
I know there are worse things than living with questions about what's next and where's next? (none of us actually knows what's next, anyway)
But still, I feel like I need to cry while I tap my foot. The irony has a sense of humor: it's actually in this space of surrender and beauty where
I feel most alive.