I just want to feel good.

I want to feel the rush of freedom when you’re 8 and it’s recess so you run as fast as you can to the playground bars, pull yourself on, and spin around and around until the callouses on the palms of your hands threaten to rip. That feeling of gripping the bar and trusting it is concretely in place. Trusting yourself to have enough bravery and momentum to make it 360 degrees around. Closing your eyes to feel the air on your face and reaping the benefits of endorphins as the pit in your stomach fades upon gaining confidence that you’ve got this. You can keep going and going and going. You can keep feeling and trusting.

When the whistle blows to return back inside the classroom you know you’ll have many opportunities to play again so you leave, radiating satisfaction.

I want, with all of my being, to feel that.

All of my being; me, the whole me, the good wolf, wants to be free. Wants to not feel like a ton of bricks.

I feel trapped and locked down. Like the good wolf is guarded by the bad wolf and the bad wolf is too strong.

I truly do feel like a ton of bricks. My hamstrings constantly feel sore despite doing much less than I was doing. Every step of the first 7 miles of my run today was heavily painful and then suddenly I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. The last mile was numb. Which is an excellent metaphor for the current state of my emotional well being: heavy, painful, numb. Repeat.

I just want to feel good.

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