Last night I left yoga feeling like a broken-down mess. Not the desired effect probably.
I am getting over a two week marathon of illness. I am a skeleton girl. My boney fingers are haunting to me.
I went to a yoga session that I had no time for, because I thought it would "right" me in some way. It had the potential to, but it didn't. It didn't because my mind won't let go. I refuse to let go.
I didn't linger after class, I tore out of there. As I was pulling onto the highway I had a desperate thought. A sob rose up though my chest and throat. I pulled it together and wouldn't let go.
I don't know where to begin. I am admitting that I don't know anything. And I am also admitting that I'm afraid I might end up being a person that chooses her fear and worry over an actual life.