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87 - Anchored to the Battles I Cannot Escape

Last month, I lifted one anchor. The homeless girl I’d been looking after finally has a roof above her head. One more person a little safer,  a little better off. Just a small gesture of kindness  but enough to change the direction of her life. And now,  without that weight holding me in place, I feel myself drifting again. I was pouring kindness into others so I wouldn’t have to try pouring any into myself. Helping strangers felt easier than facing the people I truly want to help, the ones whose pain terrifies me because I know what it would do to me if I fail again Without her to care for, I’m like a boat carried by the wind, no anchor, no direction, just drifting toward the place I’ve been avoiding  the place where my own struggles wait. I’ve put myself in a position where I can no longer hide behind distraction. The inner demons I kept at bay are now standing in front of me again. The hollow feeling returns, the numbness I use as armour to protect my mind from fe...

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