In the center of disastrously high winds, debris taking flight, I am shaking.
98.2, 98.4, 98.5, 98.6, 98.7: body aches spread, but I don’t have a fever so it must be in my head.
I just want my mom.
I feel the worst I’ve felt. Because all the feelings are there. This is it: this is what you came to therapy for: you did it: you feel now.
And you’re not standing on train tracks to make it go away. You ate all your meals today. Congratulations, you’ve landed an A.
There is nothing else to do from here, you are alone in this dreadful tornado.
It is 7:56pm and I am in bed unable to get warm under three blankets. My head feels fuzzy and my body feels like someone punched every inch with death in mind.
Tears roll down my cheeks one at a time. One, two, three, stop. I am frozen inside this terrifying weather and all my energy has escaped. I have nothing left.
This is the end, and in the end I need my mother.