The Weight of the World

 

With the weight of the world on your shoulders, it is hard to see the light of day. Lift up your head, your healer is near.

For so long, I had “fixed” my own problems. The routine was simple: Worry, rationalize, cry. Crying becameΒ my solution and if I had not addressed what was bottled up soon enough, a rush of rage would spew out onto my oppressor. Tears on my pillow every night had become normalcy. By morning I’d shrug off my worries and hope to see a brighter day. I knew that I needed help but I didn’t know where to start.

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