Today was one of those days where I woke up feeling like a stranger in my own body. Dystonia had decided to assert itself more than usual, with muscles twisting and pulling in ways I couldn’t control. It’s a familiar dance of discomfort and unpredictability, but no matter how often it happens, it never gets easier. This physical turbulence was just the beginning, as it ushered in a deeper, more pervasive sense of depression. There’s an unsettling weight that accompanies these moments—a feeling like I’m being scrutinized by invisible eyes or that something ominous is lurking just out of sight. It’s as though a dark cloud has settled over my mind, casting long shadows on my thoughts and actions. I don’t know what’s coming, but the fear of it is enough to keep me constantly on edge. I spent most of the day in a quiet, reserved state, moving through the hours like I was underwater. Words felt heavy, and each sentence was an uphill climb. When someone asked me a question, my mind went blank
an aspiring Poet, Thoughts from the Heart, Living with Mental and Dystonic Issues; and an avid Southern Gospel Music fan.