Through the Kaleidoscope

She snuggles in close and throws her hand up into my hair, a habit she’s had since infancy. Her purple princess dress spreads out across my lap while the sounds of cartoons fill my ears.

I sip my coffee and scratch endlessly at the hives that have appeared all over my body since the medication switch began the week before.

Looking around I see the furniture that was purchased by my husband and I, picked carefully and painstakingly after saving up for months and going store to store to find the perfect choice.

I see the chair my parents gave me when my daughter was born, the one we rocked in nightly, falling asleep and awkwardly waking up exhausted in the morning.

There is a book-case filled with all the books I have read and some I’m waiting to, and stacked on the shelves are notebooks full of my writing. My thoughts.

I sip my coffee and sink down into the corner of the couch. This room is comfortable, it’s where I think, write, and cuddle with my daughter.

This is my home and I’m happy here. This place is full of love.

The hives bite at my skin as I wrap my arms around my daughter and kiss the top of her head.

I know I am blessed.

I know I am blessed.

I know I am blessed.

It’s my mind that I can’t control, distorting my thinking and making my world jumbled like a kaleidoscope of thoughts.

I want to be well.

Because I know I am blessed



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