THE SLIGHTEST CRACKS
January 2nd, 2023 | Fredericksburg, VA
It’s spilling out again. My temper. The emotions I try so hard to bottle. Guess I’ve reached my cap. I’ll be sure to keep in mind that prolonged stays with my damaged family aren’t really worth the already tenuous grasp on my mental health. Still, justified or not, I know better than to lose myself to anger. It’s never come even remotely close to solving anything.
So, I will mend the tear as best I can and be on my way.
It bears mentioning that other than journaling I haven’t written a single word. Not on the book, the blog, nothing- And I know why.
This place is charged for me. It isn’t home. It isn’t familiar. It is a place rife with conflict, unspoken errors, and vast disappointments. But it is also a place of hope, and healing. If we let it be.
My exhaustion has reached its peak. As it inevitably was meant to. These aren’t meant to be prolonged affairs. But as this installment draws to a close, I feel sorrow again. The slightest cracks before a break. And I weep. Because I am losing.
In my ability to continue.
