Today, I’m rediscovering myself, little by little, as I do little things.
Testing crochet patterns for Christmas presents.
Picking yarn with my sister.
Applying for a postal ID.
Buying a syringe for my fountain pen ink.
Saying yes to things.
The terror and anxiety of my new normal still sits like a sinister specter at the base of my skull, but it hasn’t grasped for me all day.
Each word, each inch of stitching, is a brief wave of exhilaration; they are short breaths of peace breaking through.
They are not answers, but they stop the cruel questions I ask about myself.
I’m not sure I’m the confident person I was last year anymore. But I am making progress, little by little.