I've been thinking lately, just a bit, just a glimmer here and there, about thinking. About how lately it's been such a blessing to not think. To not hurt. To not suffer the way I'm hard wired to.
To not be in pain.
To not be digging deep, analyzing, figuring things out.
Here's the truth. The absolute rock bottom, depths of my soul honest truth. I'm terrified to feel those things again. To feel so lost, so out of control. So sure my mind would splinter into pieces that I wouldn't be able to put back together.
Yes, so much of who I am comes from that place of doubt, of darkness, of exploration. I know that.
I own that.
I was that for my entire life.
But I don't want to be that now.
Yes I miss words flowing, the disciple of writing, the moments of awareness and the growth thy followed. I miss hearing from people with words of understanding, compassion, beauty.
I miss you.
But I don't miss that part of me. I start to panic when even the smallest flicker of anxiety flits by. It's not welcome anymore. It ruled my life for too many years. I was lost under it's spell.
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