It’s different now. When I crumble. The blankets
wrapped up around my face and I squirm
in the sheets.

This is not the same sadness we became so well
acquainted with. Not the monster we learned to
battle. No, I face this one alone and

only sometimes. I do not pull my knees to my
chest anymore. Do not wail into the universe about
not wanting to exist in it.

But on occasion I still find myself fighting
my own chemistry. My own memory of how I am and
how I am supposed to be.

Clay that should become tile piles up in the studio. I
argue with the urge to cut all my hair off.
Stay all day on the couch watching Breaking Bad again.

Familiar feeling, but not quite the same. Closer to déjà vu than a
clear remembering. I’m fumbling, but I trust myself to
find my footing again. I understand that this is

not how it ends. I make phone calls. Send texts.
Reach out like I never felt capable of before. I know I’m worth the
struggle this time. I know.

I find myself wondering if I would have made it. If this
desire to stay afloat was always present, even when not
presenting. If my will to live has always been vivacious,

relentless. Must have been. Because whenever they’ve asked
what they can do for me, I’ve always said, “Listen. But
do nothing.” When the time came, I’ve always known the battle is

fought and won by myself. Just listen. And sometimes that means
just to my breathing. My energy. Be present. Hold space for me and
expect nothing.

We are learning to do that again. In new places with new people and new
ideas of what succeeding looks like. We are beginning
again. And this time I know we’re not quitting.

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Hey! I have a Facebook page now. Go like it to not only stay in the loop with what’s going on over here, but for all sorts of other fun stuff. There will be at least one video. Haven’t you been wondering what my voice sounds like?

Photo courtesy of Wayne Lo.