When I felt crushed after the 3rd party doctor exam to “verify my continued disability,” I found a secluded office alcove where a chair sat in diffused, bright sunlight.
I had to let myself just stop and shake out the sensations and their implications, holding my forehead between fingertips with arms supported by high-sided leather.
As tears rolled down my cheeks unbidden, frustrated by event’s embarrassment, I quietly sobbed folding into myself as my brain swirled in churning confusion.
Then anger arose to defend me, to lift and surround encircling: the dragin within awaking to protect this vulnerable child.
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