Stressing, again.

I'm not ready for this.
There, I've said it.
I've been pushing and rushing to hurry my life along for the last three years, now every day I wake up and cringe that I've lost another day. Half the country is flooded underwater and yet here, in this middleland, the sun has started shining every morning, the air is mild. It's almost as if the weather is teasing me with the promise of summer, the certainty that it's on its way, and once it's here my childhood ends. There are so many things I want in life I can only get by growing up and rowing the boat myself with both hands but...I need another 6 months, I need time to think and stop my heart accelerating in panic mode.

My arthritis has been hurting more than its done in years the last few months. I'm loaded up on tablets and I still wake up every morning tight and stiff and unable to take my mind off the pain. There is no comfy way to sit, even now the back of my neck is creaking, my left hip is humming and my knee is locking, I can't stand it when I hurt this much. It's like my body just wants me to lie down all day breathing through it. I don't need this right now, I have essays I need to write, grades I need to salvage.

Only my books can save me. I've always been sure of that. I really thought I would have succeeded by now. But university got the better of me, if it wasn't burying six feet under with work, it was draining every ounce of inspiration I had inside, I've neglected Grace so much I'm hardly surprised she's sodded off. And Jim...Jim has become a dark shadow, not even a man of substance but a wisp, like the suffocating choking dark smoke that comes from a cigarette. I don't know what to do with him, because I don't know who he is anymore. Grace, I really need you back.