I am wracked with warning signs when I thought I was setting myself free.
I’m tired of sleeping but I’m afraid to be awake:
Racing, gasping, tripping toward a finish line that seems forever away. And I wonder if I have the strength to go on. How can I believe I am good where I am when inadequacy is a constant driving force?
I don’t feel sick,
but I don’t feel well.
Never fully ahead. Never at peace in the mire.
My wrists are sore and weak. My hips, shoulders and neck ache.
My courage drains away and I am left with the familiar voice of exhaustion,
“Not good enough,
Never good enough.”
Odonata 