I came across a video a friend liked on Facebook...
I have this to say...
For some people it's not that easy. Some people have stress like weights duct-taped to their wrists and ankles, and it drags at them. Day after day, it gets heavier and heavier, and it gets harder and harder to go through life on your own, until you're nearly crippled and need to rely on others just to stay afloat enough to get the odd breath in every so often.
Some people can't put that glass of water down. Not because they forget, or want to hold to their stress, but because the glass won't let go of them.
It's hard to live like that. With chronic insomnia, I was lucky to get a few minutes of sleep here and there in a day, and an hour of sleep a night in little snatches - a few minutes just after midnight, a minute at three, five minutes just after dawn. I lived like that.
Then I didn't. Then I started being able to actually sleep, and it was like...like a whole room opened up, a room of paints and pastels and canvas and rich, soft, white paper and gorgeous flowering plants and a world of music, where before all I had was a few albums, a record player, onionskin paper, and old, broken pencil stubs with a penknife to sharpen them with.
And now it's like that with stress. It was like cooking with long, flared silk sleeves weighted with jewels and metals, a dress of velvet and silk and six layers, rings on every finger. An old, rusty knife, a tin camp-cup, a raggedy plastic board, and old cracked pans and pots.
And now it's like seeing an open door with a modern, fully-stocked kitchen, with an apron hanging in the doorway. I'm still getting rid of the layers, to the simple sundress under it all, but the heavy jeweled overgown is gone, no more silk to catch on fire, or jewels to weigh me down, velvets and brocades to trip over and get in the way.
Or, to put it like the video....the glass is on the table, but my fingers are still attached to it...but they're coming loose, joint by joint...
And when that happens? When I am finally free of the things that, while I love to wear them, they weight my every step and make cooking nearly impossible? When the water I need to live is no longer carried all day, all night, every moment of my life?
That will be the day I no longer need to rely on things.
