"Because there is trust too, in feeling small. The letting-in that comes from letting go." 
-- Too Much and Not in the Mood by Durga Chew-Bose

 

the taste of vomit in my throat and a stickiness
in the air elicits a feeling of uneasiness in me.
my hair feels soft beneath my fingers, but my body
feels foreign. i have been prescribed fourteen medications
this year alone, one of which i didn't take out of fear.
i left a voicemail for my psychiatrist, told him i was afraid.
there is no room left in me for hope. today i baked banana bread
and felt as though i was living a life that wasn't really my life.
like waking up from an emotional blackout. a morning of,
"i don't know who that was last night." a period of thirty
minutes asleep, only to wake up in panic, unsure of where i was.
there is a disconnect from the me i was yesterday and the me
i am now, and i don't recognize either of them.

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