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The weight

…it’s bearing down.  It’s too much.  I don’t think I can do it.

My legs are weak.  My resolve is slipping.  The darkness is coming.

I know it will pass.  I know things will get better, but I’m there.  In that place where the air hurts.  Where sounds are overwhelming.   Where a simple “how was your day” sends shivers down my spine and tears to the surface.  

That weight…bearing down on me.  I can’t hold it up.   I want to let it crush me and be done with it.  I don’t want to struggle under the weight anymore.

The guilt.  I have a good life, a good family…nothing to feel bad about.  How do I justify not being able to bear the weight when others have so little.

Ugh.  Sabr.   Arabic for patience…endurance…perseverance.  I know things will get better.   I just have to hold on a little longer.


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