I’ve done it more times than I care to admit. I’m not really sure when it started, and maybe I’ve always done it one way or another. This particular day, I could already feel my anxiety creeping its way into my mind and body like an invasive parasite; ready to drain the life right out …
No, I’m Not Okay.
Why am I not able to transfer what’s going on in my head into words? It’s because I want this to be perfect. If the baby wasn’t crying and asking to get up on my lap for the hundredth time today, and the four year old still took a nap, and I didn’t have three …