Down the Rabbit Hole

The Heart of the Matter

I'm approaching 3pm which marks the time of day that my stomach usually returns to more stable ground and I feel nearly human again. It is still raining though and the old break lines in my left hand are aching with the dampness. On the upside, I'm spending the afternoon listening to pandora radio and fielding what pitifully few phone calls come through. I'm trying not to think about work, about what the late of work could mean at this seemlingly delicate time in my life right now. I can't seem to formulate a coherent thought let alone write anything of any substance, it is as if my creative sparks have taken a back seat to the more basic concerns I face now. I live for the hours between 3pm and 4am when I actually feel good and just keep praying I can cope with all that is to come. Patience seems in short supply, both on my end and his. I'm afraid to voice my concerns or thoughts unless they are overwhelming positive otherwise, he is quick to snap and cajole me for being "negative". It is just that sometimes I have to say things outloud, and better I confide in him though I doubt he sees it that way. Sometimes it feels like someone else has moved into my skin and I cast out for anchor only to find I am in way over my head. Other times I feel amazing, strong and connected, grateful and fulfilled.