The Shadow on the Wall

Dear Delyara, The streetlamp outside my window projects the shadow of a bare tree branch directly across my bedroom wall at 3:45 AM. The wind is blowing hard tonight, making the shadow move in erratic, violent jerks, like a creature trying to break through the plaster. I’ve been staring at it for hours, unable to close my eyes. It feels like the anxieties inside my head have taken physical form on the wall. No matter how much I try to rationalize my fears—telling myself that the financial pressure will pass, that the business will launch, that the exhaustion is temporary—the shadow keeps moving, unbothered by my logic. I am tired of fighting my own mind every single night. I am tired of being the protector of everyone else while feeling completely defenseless against my own thoughts.