I’ve never liked the heat. My siblings called me a Polar Bear. In the cold things are silent, peaceful. In the heat the air is heavy. A subtle discomfort that refuses to go away. I can describe my life that way. No matter what I do there is always that small frustration, a feeling that I am doing something wrong.
There are endless weights on a life. Small voices judging you. “Lose weight, make money, clean, do something…” They cause pent-up frustrations. Anxiety, Depression follows. Anxiety and depression only make the voices louder, and myself more lethargic. That endless spiral, down, down I go.
It never truly stops…I know that. Wounds Heal but can reopen. It is always a matter of enduring, building mental muscles to lift the same weight like an old man who felt the same pain in his leg for so long it no longer bothers him. I write to let out my frustration because I know that it will always be building. The weight of life is always building if you don’t learn to carry it, or let some of it go it will crush you.