Just like a little girl who needs her mom, my stomach hurts.

Everything hurts today—if I don’t sleep more than a couple hours tonight, I truly don’t know how it will be possible to be awake. Sleep deprivation is pure torture.

My stomach hurts and my head is numb? gone? heavy? chaos? and my body feels sick. I am little, (but I am also an adult) and I need my moms hand. I need her physical presence, her voice, her hug—the kind that holds you so you don’t fall apart.

Because I can’t keep holding it together with this much grief and this much change (even if it’s good change) and so many intrusive thoughts and this much Covid anxiety (a family member is in the hospital) without my mom.

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