Most of my days are spent trying to sort out thoughts. Usually they swirl like fall leaves in a gentle breeze and are easily swept into some sort of order. Other days, the wind storm whip them into a frenzy and I am completely overwhelmed by the chaos.
Change or even the prospect of change sends my thoughts sailing over the rainbow (and NOT in a good way). I struggle to organize my thoughts so that they are not so overpowering but the effort to control them tends to cloud everything else. I can't help but magnify the changes to such dramatic proportions that they become unrealistic and scary. I don't always remember being this rigid and inflexible. Maybe I was but was pushed to bend.
I pick out parts of conversations and allow them to burrow under my skin and fester when they are said with no malice at all. Things that aren't my business and don't really concern me at all. Occurrences just mentioned in the light banter of conversation. I swat at them like pesky insects but I'm defenseless to keep them from hiding away in my head and becoming hurtful.
I'm sure Dr. Google would have a field day with my craziness so I'll just stay away from that. Writing helps more than I ever thought it would. It allows me to tuck each thought into a nice little box, tie it up with a bow and move on to the next one. I may not have something to say everyday, aside from telling myself to keep swimming, just keep swimming (wise words of Dori from Finding Nemo).
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