It’s easy to get distracted from the “issues” at hand, and equally easy to get swallowed up by the memories surrounding them. Somewhere between those two extremes is where the real work happens.
It’s a battle, moment by moment sometimes, to stay there. It’s hard and it hurts. It’s difficult to determine if time is a friend or foe.
Last night I failed and found myself swallowed up by memories even after trying to not go to that place.
The shame and fatigue in the aftermath of that failure are hard to describe right now. It’s another type of battle, but a real one nevertheless, to not isolate myself, to reach out and not lose touch right now.
I’m weary…from fighting…of life.