I can’t get a clean answer from myself

Dear Delyara, I don’t know if I need change or sleep. Distance or comfort. A doctor or a weekend. A boundary or a different life. A conversation or silence. Courage or softness. Nothing in me comes one thing at a time anymore. It all arrives mixed — body, fear, intuition, grief, stress, longing, old wounds — and by the time I’ve tried to separate them, I’m too tired to trust whatever remains. That confusion is exhausting. I think it is one of the hidden prices of carrying too much for too long.