Spiral

I never realized I was spiraling until I was falling apart.

I thought life was supposed to be like that—dizzying and nauseating and filled with uncertainty. Spinning so fast your face turned green in a whirlwind of bad decisions and half-baked ideas.

I thought it was normal to zip through life, unable to control the pace.

Like a beyblade pulled by an over eager ten year old who just wanted one win in his cousins arena because Joseph is a jerk and needs to be put in his place. Just one win.

And then, I hit the wall.

Splattered against the concrete like a Jackson Pollock. Peeling myself from between the grooves of brick like picking corn silk from between my teeth.

Pieced back together in haphazard chunks of hesitant human.

Carrying a body that felt foreign and weighted—anchored to the chaos I thought was normal life. Slowly sifting through haystacks to find a needle to sow my morals back together.

Stitched and crafted with mismatched threads and beads of conviction.

Melding into rods of metal to straighten a jellyfish spine of ‘I’m not good enough’ and challenging the cyclone of my mind.

The storm is quiet.

I can see the funnel clouds on the horizon, threatening to slam my poorly constructed surety into another wall. Mocking my gorilla glued safety net with spiteful thunder.

But, I thrive in the aftermath.

In the clean up—where I can dust off my broken pieces and start again.

This time, I brought Dramamine and a soldering iron.