I am…but who’s the “I” anyway?

I am depleted. I’ve been going nonstop for the past two weeks between family travel and work travel—managing humans and managing tasks—and haven’t had a moment to myself.

I am numb. From the mass shootings, and from some personal trauma I can’t move past, but keep gaslighting myself about, too.

I am disconnected. From my body, from my routines, from my emotions. I’m moving through things but not really there, and I can’t seem to find release or relief in the activities that are my usual havens.

I am apathetic. It’s hard for me to find anger or enthusiasm, sadness or happiness. It’s all just neutral grey.

I am unfocused. I can’t stay on one task for longer than a few minutes. I’m still getting things done, but I don’t like how this feels.

I keep trying to remember that just because I am experiencing all of these things does not mean I AM all of these things.

Experiences and feelings are impermanent. They are rooted in thoughts, and thoughts aren’t always the truth.

But even knowing this, the fog of feelings-and-experiences-and-thoughts is so thickly wrapped around every part of me right now that I’m having trouble finding the “I” who’s behind them.

Where did I go?

How do I find me?

I have navigated this before, and I will navigate it again.

Patience.

Compassion.

Self-trust.

Rest.

Breath.

The “I” who’s writing this is will be ok.

She has always been OK.

There is nothing wrong with her.

She is human.

She is flawed.

She is perfect.

She is whole.

She is here.

Somewhere.