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April 2019 | Relapse

Action required

I sit in my bed paralyzed, knowing there are things to be done, yet frozen and wanting to pull the covers back over my head and go to sleep. Here is where the seed of relapse germinates: in the fertile ground of fear and hurt. It begins to take root in the consciousness whispering, “This is too much. This is too hard. This is too painful.” And the tendrils spread and anchor, choking out reason and hope, strangling the spirit. 

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