noodle

Depression has weighed heavily on me of late. Better times seem remote. A spark of joy ignited when I played “limp as a noodle, heavy as a truck” with Tyoma. I chanted this line to him straight from The Craft as I held him on my lap and rocked him. Such a simple activity made me feel connected and in control. I felt life a mother to a child instead of someone who needs to make therapy appointments. I vow to get out more. Confined at home I languish.

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