Scared

This morning I awake two hours before my alarm, soaked in sweat and sky-high anxiety. I am that scared little girl who wants to cry from fear. I want my dog, Eddie to come tell me it’s ok, but he’s dead. I want a big strong man to hold me and make it ok. I want guarantees and security. My stomach knots and I feel tears prickle my eyelids. 

I’ve been waking up early a lot lately. Usually if I put my head down I’ll go back to sleep, but not this morning. This morning is worse. I am more anxious.

Where’s my faith?

I get up, make a cup of tea, and go back to bed to write.