The Fog.

I wrote the following piece about a month ago. Reading this now – I feel like a different person. I am a different person and I am so proud and happy.

Sometimes it is waves. Sometimes it is a fleeting moment. Other times it is big. Sometimes it is small. But nearly always lingering and threatening. It comes heavy and quickly and slowly and all at once.

And then it is over. Until the next time. And each time I think I am prepared or I will be better at it. I fail every time.

But I have to ride the wave, try and catch it before it comes crashing down. Inevitably it does, it always does. It is anger. It is hurt. It is frustration and it is the heaviness of it all. It batters me and tenses my jaw. I feel it travel from my brain, sink into my teeth and then erupt into an angry and frustrated version of me with with bitter tears.

I am an excellent secret keeper. I can tie up my emotions and box them away for another day. Even when it crumbles I can still keep it all in. No one ever really knows.

And then I feel light again, the fog clears. I hope one day it will forever disappear.