I went to bed feeling more like a corridor than a person

Dear Delyara, That’s the best description I have for some days. A corridor. Things passing through me constantly. Needs, timings, moods, questions, tasks, reminders, worries, errands, little urgent bits of everyone else’s life moving through my attention on their way to the next place. By bedtime I didn’t feel broken. I just felt used as a passageway. I lay there in the dark thinking how difficult it is to stay solid in yourself when so much of your daily role depends on being open. Open to interruption, open to practicality, open to people, open to contingency. Tomorrow I’ll probably do it all again. Tonight I just wanted to tell the truth about how it feels.