I’m just back from a long walk.  Alone, except for my friend’s dog, Chloe (who I call Clarissa).

My cluttered mind is a jumble of overlapping thoughts and pictures that make me want to scream into the air.  Mindful of innocent bikers and walkers along the popular W&OD Trail, I, instead, die silently on the inside.  My feelings are churning into a vortex and I struggle against the gravitational pull sucking my physical body into the black hole I feel forming in the center of my brain.  My extremities feel like they are doing the dance of iron filings when a magnet gets too close and I fear they’re about to fold into the void.

I’m stronger than this, I know, but I don’t have the fight right now.  I just want my mind to be quiet and I especially want the world to stop giving me things to think about.

A breeze gifts me the sweet smell of honeysuckle and it teases me with the peace I’m so wishing for.  I stop to inhale deeply and think only of the fresh, warm aroma surrounding my physical space.  It’s a temporary anchor grounding me to an inlet of momentary peace.  It dissipates and my mind vomits me back into my fucking, shitty reality.

I walk on.