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Control. Please.
Control. Please.
Control is such a compounded state. I envy those who have a grip on their emotions, on their actions. On them. I would never think myself reckless. In fact, I am a quiet study of calculated movement. However. Isn’t their always a however with me? I struggle endlessly with what I think. I torment myself…
What I love most is being able to express one of my ridiculous feelings— and lemme tell you— they get laughably ridiculous and not only am I not judged, but I am given empathy. And after that empathy is given, we laugh. We laugh at my giant emotions. We laugh in all of their faces.…
Learning not to allow this anxious drum line that overwhelms my heart, rule my spirit.
But! A good thing? I am learning control.