I feel heavy.
As if I swallowed bricks. I feel dry, but I’m not dehydrated. I feel like I can’t take in anything else without crumbling.
A headache that sticks around for days behind your eyes just enough to make every little thing seem like a big irritating thing, resists the Midol I’ve been downing.
I am filled with concrete mix and sometimes it begins to harden and I am paralyzed and rough and uncertain.
Everything hurts but nothing hurts. It’s not depression.
I don’t know what it is.
But I need you to hold me.
Hold me, really and truly and fully. Hold space for me. Hold on with me. But hold me entirely.
I need to know for sure that being this heavy doesn’t mean I’ll break and it doesn’t mean I’ll break you and it doesn’t mean I’m not ok.