I saw every debt I’ve accrued laid out, a winding path of ruined buildings and dead land, stretching for miles over hills and mountains across/through time and space.

 not even like a crashing or a wave, it was instant. overwhelming. the sides of my fingers were sweating, I was nauseous. saw spots. instant burning and numbness, muscles cramping, all the emotions, anger, hopelessness, joy, sadness, everything at once. but wrapped up with so. much. exhaustion. It was terrifying in the kind of way that I can keep that at bay and grind through each day…but I don’t know how to work through what I was shown. 

no matter what happened when I took it, there was no going back. I’d learn something new about myself. I wasn’t ready, but I wouldn’t ever be ready.

According to Rebecca, most people feel “[the pain/seeing the debt] is a shock or a betrayal by the body." 

But I know exactly where I’ve accrued each of these debts, it’s not a betrayal. I know this bill is due; it's overdue. I kept kicking the can to get through construction, to get to and through Williams, and I promised myself I’d rest after. Now I'm still kicking the can because it's not safe (okay) to rest and I thought it would be.