the dark tunnel …

Entering the catacombes in Paris, a long, dark...

I’m in that dark tunnel with no end, no way out. Too many things feel like a catastrophe. I’m walking and walking and walking and there is no way out. It just goes on forever.

My heart is in my throat. And the reason for all this drama … My new psychiatrist told me that I have to give up my current therapist. It’s not an unusual request, but I feel like the bottom just fell out from under me. My therapist has been the one constant I’ve had for the past six years. The only insight I have is that this news along with moving my office at work has sent me spinning. I admit that it does not make sense, and that these seem like insignificant things in the greater scheme of things, especially the office move. But, still, here I am freaked out. Insignificant or not, stupid or not, I am still a wreck.Apparently these things are triggers for me.

I can’t think anymore today. My body is racked with aches from shaking so hard, and crying. I don’t want to be like this, yet here I am. This is a short post because I need to sleep.

4 thoughts on “the dark tunnel …

  1. Sometimes there is no light at the end of the tunnel. You wind up on your hands an knees crawling, feeling your way though. Then suddenly you feel you way around a corner, and to your shock and amazement, you see a pinhole of light. It’s not necessarily a bright light, but finding the pinhole gives you the strength to keep going. To keep trying to crawl your way out of the darkness toward the light. It may be in the distance, but just knowing it’s there makes all the difference in the world.

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