Have I mentioned lately how I hate being reminded that this life is in my hands? Yet, wasn't it just months ago that I felt like a prisoner of my own body, of my own mind, unable to run away? How has it almost been half a year since I was court ordered to remain in the care of some place other than my home? Do you see the palpable confusion when I am told, multiple times, that I am the one in control? That I direct my own future?
Is it so wrong to wish for someone to decide for me? Is it so wrong to want to be guided, to not have to make the toughest decisions? Will I be shamed again for wanting to feel less alone? For wanting to helplessly fall into someone's arms, as they pick up the burden of my heart and carry its weight for awhile? May I rest for a moment? Do I have your permission? Can you help me directly, instead of saying I'm out of your reach?
Can you remain with me through the dark, when everyone else falters far behind? Can I trust that you won't give up on me?
