I allowed myself--for a brief stint--to regress into a predictable, boozing, money-wasting, man-hating sex fiend. As a result, I feel like I'm now more of a cliché than I have been in quite a long time.
This past year and half has seen me through a lot: change in my self, change in my marital status, rejection from an ancillary-albeit-undeserving presence in my life, transformation in the way I conduct myself professionally, the death of my father, a silencing, going underground, emerging only to rehash the basest remnants of my life's coping mechanisms.
Can I see sunlight? Will I beat my wings against these suffocating walls until my heart gives out?
I don't know if I have already relented. I was exhausted. Now I've rested and have no clue where to go.
I want to be not constantly overwhelmed. I want to hide. I want to be comforted. I want balance.
Maybe my rest is not finished.
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