Broken

I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi truck and I didn’t see it coming, I couldn’t see it coming. Now I’m left trying to pick up all my broken pieces, but I can’t. I can’t put myself back together because I can’t move. I can’t move because I’m too afraid of all the other things that could come out of nowhere and hit me. All the things that could once again send my life crashing down around me. I can’t move because I got hurt too badly and I’m too afraid of getting hurt again. So I just stay in one place so that I can’t get hit. My life was on a path, one that I had thought out, that I wanted, that I worked so hard to get, one I had overcome impossible hurdles to reach. I thought I had seen the worst, I didn’t think anything else could break me. But then something came out of nowhere and it did break me. I can’t move. I can’t put my life back together, the pieces are scattered too far and shattered too small. I just need some time, I just need a chance to find all the missing pieces. I want a chance to mourn my losses, I haven’t been able to stop fighting long enough in the past 8 years to be able to mourn, to just be sad because sad things have happened. Instead I fought to appear happy, I fought to do well in school, that worked for a while, but then I got tired, so I fought to not let myself get more tired, I focused all my energy on one thing, getting to grad school, and then came the fight of my life; I’ve been fighting to save my life. By the time I was ready to step out of denial for one loss and start to mourn, it was too late, I was in the middle of another battle, another loss. I just need a chance to take a breath, to catch up. I need a chance to glue myself back together.