In the morning, before I leave for work, my daughters (ages 4 and 2) tell me, “I love your heart and sparkle.”
I respond in kind. [I love them so… and my son… my husband…]
During the day, at work, I am told it looks like I’m not doing my job. [But I am doing the best I can.]
By nighttime, I am no one. I’ve acted like someone who cares (barely) throughout the day. I’ve worn a mask to survive. Don’t we all?
But it isn’t working. The medications aren’t working.
just. like. that.
[And I’m not even sure how to use cognitive behavior therapy to make everything ok again.]
Tonight, I feel so very far away from myself.
How many steps will it take to get back to my path… to a destination called me?
I’m not entirely sure much of me will be left if I arrive.
[In response to the Daily Prompt: Hike]