I’m Scared

The scariest thing on this journey is the looming possibility of failure, deposited back to whence I came, missing out on finding who I am. The person I became 40 plus years ago is not the person I am, my organic self that is. I only had two years as my original self before everything began. I’m just getting to the point where I’m not as empty inside. I can feel. I mean I can feel something real, not just my PTSD and anxiety checking in.

Healing has placed much in me and taken much out of me.

I wish hurting didn’t hurt so much. It was easier living in a fog. Of course, if I opted for easy, I wouldn’t have made it this far. Would I appreciate life as much as I do now had I not gone through hell? Hell was home. It keeps trying to creep back into my life. I have a new home. It just doesn’t feel like home right now. Nothing feels right.

I just ate a little chicken and a few crackers. I may have a small bowl of ice cream. At least, that’s what I tell myself as a comfort. I may not eat ice cream. Not in the mood. I’m thirsty. They say thirst and hunger register the same in the body, so if you’re hungry try drinking water first to see if the hunger will subside. Well, that may work for the physical hunger, but it does not work for emotional hunger, better known as “the feed.” The feed won’t be your fool. It has it’s purpose and does not stray from the course.

It's 11:46 PM, too late to eat and too early for bed. Still feeling tired, but not as tired as I did this afternoon. Perhaps I’ll clean up and journal for a bit. I might even write a letter to my therapist. I do that from time to time. It’s easier to share deeply when not watching the clock. Time is money.

I wish for you all a peaceful night and a good day tomorrow.

Until next time. Onward and Upward.