Some days I curl up in a ball on my bedroom floor –the bed
behind me and the wall in front of me, a big blanket covering me up and
weighing me down. During those times I am no longer the person that can work
and function and make important decisions – I can only sit there, sometimes
crying, sometimes staring at nothing as the anxiety impedes my life.
Some days I can’t sleep. So I’m up all night and my mind
races and I write beautiful stories and poems and jump from topic to topic.
Sometimes...
