Sometimes, dreams die

Earlier this week I realized I was going to have to let go of a dream that I’m (1) never going to attain; and (2) is now hindering rather than helping me.

Another dream died because of now physical limitations so I guess it falls under both 1 and 2 above as well.

It’s time I accepted it.

Letting go hurts. It smacks of failure in my mind. More failure.

Two days ago I had a flashback at work quickly followed by a panic attack. It was dismissed as lingering effects from being ill so no one really said much when I exited quickly, crying. But I knew.

It caught me off guard because normally they happen at night…because all dark and scary things happen in the dark.  I haven’t slept more than 2-3 hours in a row for well over a year now despite doing everything my doctor has asked me to try. He says it’s normal, that I’m making progress.

It doesn’t feel that way to me.

Friends say “you don’t trust God enough?” or “aren’t you better yet?” when I struggle with leaving the house for whatever reason or talking.

I want to hide. Or disappear entirely.

But something holds me back…

Even on tough weeks like this one.

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