Journal: February 13

My body complains, insistent and outraged with constant pains. It’s learning to settle that lurching in my stomach, to ease the hammer beating double taps in my chest. It’s when getting out of bed takes more energy than I have. And when I do rest, it takes twelve hours to reset, like eating and breathing cause so much stress. I am weighted; mud-stuck. It’s forgetting what anchors me and the feeling of drifting. It’s always using a boat for a metaphor, something so fragile and unstable. With a deck rocking, throwing me to my knees and nothing but the sound of my voice echoing back over a lethargic sea.