The Suffocating Blanket
Life used to be a warm cup of tea on a rainy day. It was a comforting hug, a friendly smile, a familiar face in a crowd. It was a small joy in a chaotic world. Today was a tornado. The kind that spins you so fast, you're not sure if you're dizzy or exhilarated. I've been feeling so lost lately, like I'm caught in a fog that won't lift. My mind has been racing, tossed about by the relentless currents of maelstrom. It's like trying to hold a handful of sand—the more you grasp, the more it slips through your fingers. The simple act of choosing an outfit became a daunting task. Each option is a gamble with unforeseen consequences. As if I were trapped in a labyrinth of "what ifs" and "should haves." It's exhausting, to say the least. One evening, as I sat at my desk, drowning in a sea of unfinished assignments, a familiar ache crept over me. The suffocating blanket that threatened to smother me. So desperate for relief, I looked to the s...