Hi. Remember me?

Hi.

Remember me?

Remember that tightness in your chest?

Right below your collarbone?

The one that makes you feel like a baby elephant is sitting on you?

The one that whispers from deep inside that you are just not good enough?

The one the takes all of the stuff that scares you and lays it out on the folding table in your mind and points them out one by one?

Remember the feeling that only one, maybe two Ativan tablets will soothe?

The one that tightens the back of your neck to your temples?

The one that makes you lay down and pull the blankets up to your ears?

The one that tells you not to talk to anyone, because it will distract you from thinking about me and my folding table?

Remember me?

Remember the deep exhaustion that burrows into your bones and organs and eyes and head?

The one that makes tired seem like a silly, u substantial word?

The one that makes you fall asleep when you shouldn’t?

The one that makes you blink to keep your eyes open in meetings, and causes you to hold your head up with your hands?

The one that makes reaching for the very pills that will make you feel better seems a monumental task?

Remember me?

Hi.

I thought I would invite myself to stay for a bit.

I would say don’t worry, but that’s literally who I am.

So please, feed me.

Please worry.

I will be here for a while.

Or maybe I won’t.

Remember me?

Remember how the thought of me caused you to cry and fear me more?

Remember wanting to crawl under the table and hide at the last function you attended?

Hi.

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