Part of me screams, help me. Part of me rocks back and forth with he eyes half closed. She wants to close them and fall into herself, all folded up like a napkin tucked in a jacket pocket.. She wants to be where its dark and quiet where no one can see her.
My head is a mess. I am fearful and anxious, ready to sleep, ready to find the fetal position and take it under layers of covers with the soft, warm, wintry blue electric blanket. In that blue cocoon I will not need to complete a sentence. I won’t need to talk to someone and make sense. I can just lay there and sleep this off.
I need to be held. I need a new head. I need guilt to ease up and for my inner drive to be recharged. I am tired but it’s not all physical. I’m tired inside to the point that it literally hurts to be awake.
I will sleep then wake to a nice warm meal of lamb stew with crusty bread. Later I will eat homemade chocolate chip cookies. My ginger bug is fermenting so I can start the homemade ginger ale, non-alcoholic, Jamaican style.
I’ll write about the therapy session after I wake up. I’m very tired. I didn’t get to sleep until 9 this morning.
Bye for now,