Feeling so weary sitting on this couch. I’m exhausted. It’s not a physical exhaustion, although the physical demands play a part. My soul seeks rest. The places that I used to find it hold no comfort these days and I feel as though I am floating from moment to moment, waiting for when I can close my eyes. The anxiety makes all the sounds too loud and distorted, the lights too harsh and bright. I find myself longing for the quiet and solitude of my bedroom, although even then I rarely find some peace. The noise inside my head is the loudest, it will not quiet even for a moment. The thoughts roll around and around, becoming louder and louder and I turn to the words I love so much, the words that quiet my soul. I thank you then for creating for me a safe haven, even when the words aren’t so beautiful, even when the truth is dark and painful and rips open old wounds. I thank you. Your words remind me that there is another way to see this world, another way to see the beauty, another way to find release and this is all I’ve ever wanted.
Write On 