The road long traveled

Some days I feel like I just might make it through the rubble... some days I trust that I won't always have to feel so sad... so thoroughly broken. Some days, I can acknowledge the grief and the triggers, but am able to cope - to keep going, to keep smiling... to believe that the road long traveled is still leading somewhere worth going.

Then there are all the too many other days. The days that I just don't know how I can keep acting normal and functional, when I feel so horrible - so completely wrecked. Days when I have no energy and no motivation to even think about coping, and when I'm woefully sure there is absolutely nothing new or good under the sun for poor me. Days when something so small and seemingly harmless can completely derail me, and when the bend seems to be merely a far off mirage.

These days, when my heart just hurts so much that it extends to my tummy and every muscle in my body, the only solution seems to be to crawl into our bed and hide, which is too frequently not an option.

I don't even know what the difference is between the days. Am I really that mentally unstable? Probably! With a few heavy dashes of wrecked.

Week 28 of Photo 52: Rustic

Still, somehow, somewhere deep inside, I know that whether I walk, skip, trudge - or even crawl a couple inches at a time before lying face-down in the dirt for a while - the only way remains forward.  But not now, now is the time for that bed.