…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.