Marginalia - found in the edges of the page, written during perimenopausal fall‑down + ND burnout

Marginalia

Found in the edges of the page, written during perimenopausal fall‑down + ND burnout
All Butter Toast

— I can’t keep up. Everything is too much. Too loud. Too fast. Too bright.
“I have always felt my skin humming—like a subtle vibration I’ve never quite understood. My brain is simply buzzing full or switched off, currently feeling like a light bulb about to blow.
— Why can’t I do what I used to do? Why does everything feel fast, or as if I am standing in glue — glue‑gun glue that has partially cooled.
— I’m so tired but I can’t rest. I’m so overwhelmed but I can’t stop. Everyone needs something and I can’t find the edges of myself.
— Is this hormones? Is this age? Is this me breaking? I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now.
— I keep thinking: if I can just hold it together for one more day. One more week. One more crisis. One more everything.
— I don’t recognize myself. I don’t know where I’ve gone.
— Why does nobody see how hard this is?
“It’s like starting with a firm piece of toast, covered in chunky butter you’re delighted to eat. Then, as the butter melts, it seeps straight through the toast. You’re left unsure whether you even put butter on in the first place, and instead of that firm bite, you’re holding a piece of slightly wet toast.”
— How undone I’ve become. Why does nobody see me? I don’t see me. Where have I gone.
— I think I’m disappearing.

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