My Body Hit Pause
This Friday, my body hit pause before I could.
It’s been a week.
After my father was moved in and out of the ICU.
After my daughter was waitlisted and denied.
After my husband, still healing from surgery, was told he’d need months of physical therapy.
After all of it—I collapsed.
Saturday morning, I woke up dizzy. My head ached. My limbs felt heavy. There was a thick, invisible fog between me and the world.
I kept trying to trace it back to a germ. A virus. Something that made sense.
But the fact of the matter is: I’d been holding too much.
The phrase worrying yourself sick is not an exaggeration.
And I wonder how many of us are carrying more than we’re meant to.
How many of us are trying to be the bridge, the balm, the buoy.
Until our own bodies say: No more.
Maybe this is your reminder, too.
To rest before collapse.
To feel before it hardens.
To soften somewhere safe.
What’s weighing on you today? I’m listening.
