You should know right now that this post is quite mawkish.

Last night, I lay in bed flipping through Marie Claire for a few minutes. My computer sat on my desk and cranked out my oldies playlist, which consists of far too much Neil Diamond for a girl of my generation.

It had been a really hard day. It was one of those days that leave you begging for bed. Lately, for some reason, I've been feeling worried. In the time it takes me to walk from the front door to my car, I've come up with a few bad scenarios and remembered something embarrassing that I did. I felt heavy and tired.

 Upon finally completing all of my tasks for the day, I immediately pulled on my comfiest leggings and a loose button up shirt.  I didn't have the energy to take off my makeup or to clean my room like I usually do. Instead, I climbed under the covers and just worried.  The playlist switched to Simon and Garfunkel's Bridge Over Troubled Water and I was a goner.  I started crying. Not enough to make my eyes puffy this morning, but enough to wear me out completely so that I fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

It was hard. It was still hard when I woke up this morning. And it feels still a bit off as I write this post, almost 24 hours later.

I'm ready to not feel like this.

I'm ready to be okay.

image via Georg Nikolaus 

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