I am angry. There ... I said it ... I am angry at whatever entity decides how much one person should bear.

My plate is full.

I am sad. I am sad that no matter how much I tried to avoid it ... the things in life I gave up because I knew of its eventuality ... and it came to me nonetheless.

My plate is full.

I am scared. Dammit all to Hell ... I know everything one should know about it yet I lie in bed awake ... tossing and turning ... due to fear. Fear of change. Fear of being robbed of my time, my energy ... and yes, my money.

My plate is full.

I am feeling worthless. I do not understand why I was put on this Earth if I have nothing to contribute because situations, circumstances ... the deal of the cards ... has lessened my ability to give back.

My plate is full.

I am broken. I have been cracked and chipped and losing pieces for so long but now ... now I feel broken. It's odd what brought me to this point because things in the past have been so much worse, so much more severe. But now, I feel unrepairable.

My plate is full.

I just want to take all the plates ... the anger, the sadness, the fear, the unworthiness, and being broken ... and smash them, screaming at the world.

I want to lose my resolve, my ladylike demeanor, my need to be reasonable about things ... and scream. I want to throw a tantrum so loud and frightening that the whole world will hear me.

But what good would such an overt act of desperation do me? Garner the sympathies of those exposed to my histrionics? Sympathy is not all it's cracked up to me. Been there, done that ... and I didn't like it.

I know my plate is full ... I just need a bigger plate ... or a smaller life.

[11:30am MST] [Permalink]

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