Clutching

I find myself slipping back into the despair and the doubts. A few giddy months where I pushed myself, to explore, to find my voice, to recoup, to recover, to take stock, to breathe, to live .. over. I dont know whether to plod ahead.  Or to give up and slink back into the glum. I’d hate to. But the energy’s gone.. It seems to be too much of an effort.  Even for superwoman. To even smile.

Clutching at straws. Wondering what happened to the earth beneath my feet.

It feels like an almost annual trip I do. Around my birthday. Taking stock of life. Celebrating. Writing. Living. And then I crumple back into the grey. Mere motions of getting though each day. One day at a time.

Just One day. One day at a time.

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