One day I woke up and realized that one more thing and I would crack:
Fifty years of climbing proverbial mountains and I was too tired to make any sense. No matter how I turned things over in my head, the future seemed bleak. I wondered if I would ever feel whole again. To the outside world, I was doing okay. I’m always in forward movement mode. But my inner landscape screamed for the storm to end.
(not sure where it came from)