Is anyone else as exhausted as I am?
The more I reflect, the more I realize how much energy it’s taking to process the grief that’s these past three years has weighed on my body, my heart, and my spirit. And even though I push past every time, I’m still tired.
Is anyone else like me? Where navigating the World is overwhelming some days. Where I try my best, but still it’s hard not to compare my life to others. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live life as if I was another?
Where you asks the questions that don’t matter, but still blossom into ruminating thoughts. Like, will they accept me? Or, Can someone love me, too? Maybe, will I ever really feel free to be myself, 100% myself, without worrying that I’m too weird or different for the eyes that witness me? Perhaps it’s the sicknesses that plague my body that dictate my fate after all?
Who can love me, too? I ask myself as I wake up in an anxious puddle of sweat dripping down my burdened shoulders.
Maybe, just maybe it’s possible. The love. The acceptance. The bliss of freedom to be myself without fear.
I ask the universe to allow me that freedom.
Right now, I manifest that freedom. I am free from the drought of shame, grief, and guit. I am worthy of the love I seek because it seeks me too. I am ready to receive.