I type this as pain radiates down my right leg, a dull ache interrupted by intermittent, sharp stabs at the bottom of my right toe. I write as the discomfort of 200 calories of salad sits below my rib cage, threatening to overtake me. I breathe in deeply, grounding myself in the moment that has already passed.
I fear am guilty of losing touch with my body. Of lacking connection, of being too much myself and not enough the person I hope others think I am. I have misplaced days and months in this unending attempt to flee myself. I confuse last year with three years ago, convinced I am trapped in a body that has not been mine for nearly 10 years. I do not recognize her because I have forgotten she exists entirely, failed to connect the flesh and bruises and wounds between her and me.
I write fearing affirmation of what I know to be true. I am broken. My body - my soul - the relationships that bring us together and force us diametrically apart.