Last Sunday’s topic was “I carry . . .” and so here I go . . .

I carry chaos inside me.

I feel its tentacles plunged into my brain, stretch down to wrap a grip around my heart, and continue on to toy with my stomach. I feel it in the distractions that pull me from project to project, never completing and always disgusted with the incompletion. I feel it in the animalistic rage that boils in my head and heart, blinding me and changing me. I feel the lava flow from my eyes and the ugly spew from my lips. I feel it only calm itself with bedtime stories, tiny grins and kisses bestowed and tiny hands in mine. How is it the same impetus for explosion can be the means of my crawling back to my human sanity? How do I escape? How do I actually fold a load of laundry or get through a day without it blindsiding me?

I carry chaos inside me.