anxiety rests
heavily in my spirit
refusing to quit


Last night, I woke up before midnight.  The day took a lot out of me - physically and mentally.  They came with a trial chair for Bob, and I was shaken to see where we were from the perspective of where we wanted to be.  It hurt me, at the core, wondering how many more disappointments were to follow - any more losses.  The whole covid thing has separated us from family and support and I'm finding it's harder and harder to cope.

And then he fell.  A bad fall in that nothing was broken, except his spirit.  His inability to transfer mixed with the consequences of lying on the floor without my knowing, and then layered with what it took to get him clean and dressed and back in his chair.  We were both spent - physically and emotionally, with no one around to shoulder the burden.  He doesn't want me chatting to his siblings or friends.  I have to wear a brave face and get through it for him. 

But the dog barks and I get angry.

And then I wake, shortly before midnight, and can't get back to sleep.  Worried about him, about covid, about a new world I don't like and can't see out of.  I can literally feel the anxiety moving through me and get up to watch 3 episodes of station 19, hoping it will distract me and help me sleep so that I can ignore the anxiety for a few hours.

5 hours later I'm at my desk.  Dressed, and knowing today will have more than I can handle.