Me
Well, what I can remember what was “me” is somewhere in the distance telling this body which I am surviving in to keep fighting. To keep on breathing, trying, surviving.
But how can I when I feel so hollow. When I feel all what’s left is anxious thoughts. Thoughts filled with dread, terror and yet silence. When it feels like my heart only beats to run. And my body lives to produce nothing but fear. But back again – to silence, to being numb.
How can I be racing at 100 miles an hour, thinking, stressing, crying, panicking.
To nothing.
Just nothing.
But for that “me” who is somewhere in the distance I have to keep trying.
To keep breathing, living, trying, pushing, fighting to make things work.
Because that “me” is somewhere and she’s looking for hope.
And I have to give it to her.
Because it is possible, there is hope and there is life.
It’s just life gets difficult, really difficult. But there’s always hope.
Always.
So that “me” that feels lost in the distance isn’t really lost. She just needs some time and help finding her way back. Even if it’s a slow process, you’ll make it xx
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