Dear Stranger,
I hope you are well. I am not.
If I could escape to another world, where the urgency and the wailing red lights called "responsibilities" were just a bad dream... I would find a bed in a dark room and nest in the pillows and blankets until my heart could love itself again.
I would violently vomit up the self-loathing that's been poisoning my system for decades into a great big garbage can and feel utter relief.
I would wear my warmest pajamas and my fuzzy sock and sleep and sleep and sleep, in the comfort of knowing everything is going to be okay, assured that I have some fundamental worth.
But my life rages on, unexpectedly, frantically. My own mind threatens me for every hesitation, everything "mistake." It knows all my weak spots. There's no place to hide. It savagely tears me apart.
I don't want to play this sick game any longer. I don't want to live in constant panic.
How do I escape?
Again, I hope you are well. May you always live in an abundance of peace.
