Started out buoyant and now it’s back to this, drowning in dreams of what I may never do or be. Enjoyment in the gifts I hold escapes me, life just feels too heavy to bear.

The shame that follows is excruciatingly sticky, a tar that won’t let up. Am I being punished? Am I not enough?

I’m stuck inside a body that wants to attack me. I thought with the shield of faith surely I would withstand but the arrows extinguish me

I’ve nearly given up hope. Yet I must go on and live I want to tremendously. This fog is thicker by the day, I may look fine but I am NOT okay.

Chasing symptoms down a rabbit hole of further bewilderment, certain death seems imminent.

The thoughts. They slice open any semblant of peace, if my days on Earth remain then surely this pain will cease. I want to run. I need release.

Anger. Building within me, not fuel for the fight but enough to entrap me. My body groans and spirit cries out to the one who formed me, what will my life become?

Was I too arrogant to believe it could change? That new life would course through these veins and I would emerge, transcendent? Did I not commit my way to thee?

I resolve that I am not my own. Do what you will. Give me strength to accept it. To stand.