It's ok it's not in my control.

It's okay Its not in my control.

Breathe.

Make it sacred.

My mantra lately. When Steve is randomly breathing over his vent, or suffering from hiccups, or not up for communicating, it's not in my control.

It's okay.

Another storm comes and I hear things hit on the window the same window I just lost a black widow while trying to kill her.

It's okay, it's not in my control.

I have the capability to make whatever happens work, so why am I sitting here dreading any experience?

Because I'm a control freak.

It's okay. It's not in my control.

Wait, this one actually is.

So now I do a thing. It doesn't stop the anxiety from coming because honestly that would mean I'm numb. This is some anxious shit here! It's wild and intense.

So now when I'm in a moment I make it sacred.

I stop I breathe and I say it's okay it's out of my control.

I have to let go of what I can't control because it weighs me down heavily.

I can't carry another wasted pound.

I let it go. It's okay.  It's not in my control.