I scooped up that five year old, all arms and legs, brought him to my lap and I hugged him tight. I held him and I told him he had every right to feel angry.
for the guilt you harvest for falling to pieces.
The key chain from the aquarium sat at the other end of the kitchen table. I watched the blue-dyed water and the turtle inside shake, each time he sunk into his chair and wriggled, refusing to read an assignment.
I snapped quick photos of your concentration, placed the phone down and watched your fingers move, how you dipped your brushes a little too aggressively, swirled through the orange like a hurricane then slapped on too many layers.
Coping mechanisms are great - they're important - but the occasional self pity session can bring some relief, too.
the holes in the backyard / are their rousing valleys / the flooding in the grass/ is their forest floor
The light outside is almost blinding; the stillness hits differently.
Does your brain ever feel like it's on a carousel? 'Cause mine sure does. Every. Damn. Day. Spinning in circles, everything lost in an up-down blur. You crane your neck to try to keep your eyes on that one something, but inevitably it always escapes your line of vision, because that carousel just keeps on…
I'm so sorry every day looks exactly the same. I'm so sorry for getting angry, so often. I'm frustrated. I'm lost. I'm anxious. But you are most important to me, always. Yell, apologize, repeat. Time is meaningless. The days blend and blind like getting sun in our eyes. Only night brings some sort of relief;…
Tunnel vision. Tight chest, shallow breath. A pounding and a nagging behind my eyes that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. A feeling in my stomach like the in and out of ocean waves as they reach for shore - reach, reach, reach, pull back and gain momentum. anx·i·e·ty/aNGˈzīədē/ noun a feeling of…