My anxiety has been through the roof this week. I have been utterly on edge. My caffeine in take is astronomical. Junk food has been my primary intake. I think I’ve even caught my fingers fidgeting and bouncing uncontrollably once or twice. Migraines have jack hammered their way back in too, causing me to want to lay in a dark room for the remainder of my existence.

Ugh. I hate it. My sleep cycle has suffered. And my sweet husbuddy has had to deal with some snide comments that should never have been thought, yet alone spoken.

My juggling act is on the verge of being taken off the stage with a hook. I am dropping balls all over the place. Not one of my commitments has gotten the amount of energy it deserves. I need to cut things out of my life. I have no time, energy, or desire to complete all of them. But I can’t. I can’t be labeled a quitter. But much less, could I allow myself to be labeled a failure.

Prayers please.