Manic Monday

I wake up already tired, like my soul clocked in before my body did. Alarm screaming, mind racing, heart somewhere between “let’s go” and “I can’t.” Monday doesn’t knock it barges in. Deadlines waiting, responsibilities lined up like soldiers, and me? Still trying to gather pieces of myself from the weekend that felt too short to heal anything. Coffee in hand, but it’s not strong enough to fix what rest couldn’t. I move anyway because I have to. Because life doesn’t pause just because I’m overwhelmed. People see me functioning. What they don’t see is the silent war the overthinking, the pressure, the quiet prayers whispered between tasks. But here’s the truth I hold onto like a lifeline: I’ve survived every Monday that tried to break me. So I straighten up, fix my face, and walk into the chaos like I own it. Because maybe I don’t feel ready… but I’m still showing up.