On My Feet.

What is it about sleeping in that I love so much, that makes it so hard to break out of an abnormal sleeping pattern? Aye me. It is sunny and warm again. I feel a little sunny inside as well. No small feat, by any means. The world went falling out from under me, but nothing is ever as stable as we imagine it to be. That’s tough to accept. I would crawl back into bed right now if I could, but I guess many people would, and we wouldn’t get important tasks done if we all did that. I don’t feel like writing and that confuses me. I wonder if my meds are changing me, my personality. Am I less me? Am I numb? A touch, I think. I have to get through this. I have to force myself to write, to sing, to do anything at all that resembles living, human living. I am in recovery. It’s odd to think that, but it fits, much like after a surgery, we have to take it easy. Mental ease. Writing, just keep writing and eventually I’ll get back on my feet. Will school be too much? Maybe. Maybe I need a year off. I think I can do this. I need training. I need the work. One day at a time. I would love to explain to my parents what is going on. That I need time off. This is fear talking. Fearing what will happen. I can do this. I can live what I dream of living. 

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
This entry was posted in Archive, Non-Fiction and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.