I breathed for the first time in maybe four years today.
I just stopped...and everything was finally ok.
The worst had happened, I had no more control over anything except myself - and I took back the reins on the horses of panic that have been driving me since I lost my ability to talk to The Man - my best friend.
Now I'm even a little bit excited.
No more working through the night to get the paper out, no more running to pick up the kids and feeling guilty because I'm so exhausted I can't focus. Time for dishes and gardens and walking quietly through shops for no reason except looking.
Time for books and friends and movies without actually taking time away from other, important things.
Maybe The Man and I can really be friends again if there's some distance between us again instead of this suffocating stranglehold I had on the past.
I don't care right now...I'm just happy to be breathing again.
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