getting through it

I’m sad and my stomach hurts. I am happiest when I’m falling asleep. Listen to the noise fan. Bed, dresser shelf. Naming the items between me and the door. And sad again when I wake up. Bed, dresser, shelf. I drink water and know it’s upkeep, didn’t realize I was so thirsty until it’s to my mouth. 

I sit in the sun. It isn’t even a decision. I find myself out there, the patio chairs were wet so I unroll a yoga mat and sit. Move or stretch wherever my body lands. I have been holding my breath because it feels better that way right now, stops the stomach ache and the feelings. I try to breathe like you’re supposed to, deep in through the nose and out through the mouth. Feel the air. Be the air. 

I eat because I’m so empty and only because it makes it harder to sleep. I tell the people who need to know how I’m feeling. Most take it okay. The one person I want to save me throws me farther out to sea. I’m sure everyone is worried about me and I’m trying to not let that add to the weight on my shoulders. I hope it hasn’t made theirs heavier. It probably has. This makes me cry. 

I sit in the pain. It is a decision I have to make for myself and I do it. I do not like what I hear and remember and that I can’t control how big the waves are and which one will hit me and knock me down, and which one will float me back to shore.