ugly

curled up tightly in a ball, after a quick glimpse in the mirror. this must be explained, but for me and not for you. I look sad, I look tired, I look worn - but most of all, it makes me feel like an ugly person. Physically, this has no weight. Mentally? I don't like me on the inside. I critically analyze my movement's, actions and reactions - and it pulls me under. Under the sheets of my unmade bed that, part time, acts as my solitary confinement.  I am holding strong to the notion that today is an off day. Anxiety is a crippling and exhausting demon to live with - and though I have more on days than off, the off still break my knees from the pressure placed on my shoulders. The little voices saying "you should be doing x,y,z" or "what if a,b,c happens because you didn't do x,y,z right now?" or worse off... "you didn't do x,y,z good enough, you fail". So this ball is my way of holding it all in before it spills out on the floor. I pat myself on the back, for another day of social awkwardness and discomfort. For getting out of bed, and sending the girls off to school and holding Liam extra tight before I dropped him off at Christine's. I remind myself that the dishes will wait, and that I won't fail university because I am choosing not to pour over that reading immediately, and if I can't do everything perfectly today ... there is always tomorrow. Long enough to stretch out, cry a little, and write this down. To get it off my mind, to put it somewhere that I can visually collect these thoughts and say... sometimes it isn't so okay... some days will hurt more than others. and some days, I feel like an ugly person.