A long day of drawing. I should be grateful that I have the time to spend to learn a new skill. This is what I wanted to do. It was supposed to be nourishing and all I can think about is how I feel run off my feet. Sand slipping through my fingers as I try to make up for lost time …. so much taken from me.

Behind on ASL

Behind on Drawing

Behind on Photography

Behind on my Thesis

Behind on Work

Behind on Cat Time

Behind on Working Out

Behind on Writing ….

Behind behind behind behind

Nothing is ever where it is supposed to be.

Have I always felt like this or can I blame the trauma? Blame the trauma, the trauma, the trauma, the trauma, has a life of its own. Blame the trauma so that I can pretend that nothing is wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with me there.

is nothing wrong

withme

But there is something wrong.

For I am not on time. Not on top of the time that is on top of me weighing me down with the tick. Tick. TICK. My neck in front of the long hand, the one that moves fast as the sharp edge threatens the skin on my neck then             pauses.

Sometimes I wish it would follow through on its threat. Just. Fucking. Do. It. Already.

But wait. There is something wrong.

With me sits this feeling of dread. I might die. My heart is beating. Is this what fear is supposed to feel like or is this anticipation for an end to my madness. I am falling. I am failing. I am flailing. I must hold onto my mind. Make a to do list. Frenetic energy. For I am not on top of time.

It is on top of me.

Holding me down with the smooth, cold weight of gold stolen from another nation gaslit to believe they are in last place. I think I can see my reflection. I too have been lied to. There is no such thing as getting ahead. We are all last in a line that never moves and I can’t see what the hold up is and so I take a deep breath and. I notice that if I just release the tension in my neck, I can rest my head and the long hand passes by and starts to fade in the distance, offering a gentle breeze on my hot cheeks, as if nothing. Ever. Happened .TICK, Tick, tick, tic… and so, I rest.