When plans don't go as planned.

I spiral.

I feel like I did when David told me he had cheated.

I feel like I did when Michael said goodbye in the parking lot of San Jose.

Or when he left me in the elevator.

I feel it rush in my body.

Along with anger. Dread. Sadness. Loneliness.


I scroll social media.

I make lists of things I should be doing to be good enough.

To be loved enough.

I email a nonprofit to volunteer.

I write down ways I should be donating my money and why I should feel guilty that I'm not.

I steam clean my car.

I email the detective again.

I write in my blog.

I find enough ways to overdo it until I feel better.

While avoiding the things that actually make me feel better.

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