yesterday, at my darkest desperate time, the hotel called me from my fetal cocoon, and made me come back. back to a place that i wanted, more than anything, to run from. to hide from.
as if, to say, no, eleanor, today is not the day you give up. today is not the day you give up on me. nor will i give up on you.
crawling into that elevator shaft in my pajamas i realized, much later, lying awake trying to calm my thoughts... THAT was the moment i turned back to the hotel and said, ok. i tried to turn my back on you. but you are much stronger, and apparently wiser, than i.
so, here i am. back at work. more focused, and somehow stronger than i was before i crawled into the belly of the beast.