I can't sleep...

My brain is full of crumpled notes. BIG piles of notes that are constantly being multiplied and stuffed through the small spaces.

It still blows my mind that I am a mom of two kids. Two wonderful kids that have survived outside of me that are wide eyed, happy and healthy.

I used to be creative, I used to do things. They may have been trite but they were things nonetheless. The mom I always knew I could be is kind of floating above me.

I pace a lot. I succumb to illness and there is a level of disparity. Nothing about my life in particular is bad. Yet there is a longing, I can't really grasp. My health is failing and my motivation is constantly in flux. I keep thinking to myself... Its the fibro, its the ptsd, its PPD, its my thyroid, its my liver, its the meds. The meds. The meds.

All my specialty doctors have asked, "are you really on all these meds." The ob nurses would tsk and there was the occasional "wow, sister." I would just stare at the ceiling and give a resigned sigh. "Well... This is why I'm high risk."

Mark and I survived, of course and despite being a month premature... he and I made it look pretty easy. He gained weight and managed to dodge all the health issues his sister faced. It never and still doesn't feel that way for me.

I'm constantly tired and I have so many things to say but they don't dance out of my mouth, the words fall out of my mouth like hot food. I want to type stanzas and fluffy paragraphs but the words buzz out of my fingertips like drunk flies.

I panic a lot. I stop and sink... I'm tired of sinking.

My meds are kicking in.