I am utterly exhausted.

This has to have been the longest week I have experienced in a really long time, and it’s not exactly over yet. I brought work home with me.

I started and ended the week in diametrically opposed places. At the start, I was bereft, disconnected, and unsure of why I should keep getting up day after day, trying to breathe. In the end, I’m tired, sure, but I’m also full to the brim, alive, and grateful to be me.

I can’t wait to crawl into bed with my book. I hope I sleep in tomorrow. For once, I’m not afraid of what will happen when I wake up. I believe I will be okay whatever my day may hold.

The truth is, I’m not afraid of myself right now. I’ve faced my own darkness. I’ve survived it for a long time. That I’ve continued to be scared by it, suddenly doesn’t make much sense to me anymore. I have nothing to fear. Ironically, that is a little terrifying.

I am willing tonight to believe the impossible. That I will have a life beyond even my capacities to imagine. That a day will come when I will revel in who I am. That I will know lasting joy. That I am beautiful. That all my flaws just make me that much more amazing. That I will change the world.

I am putting my faith in me.