Fetal Position

I recall learning a concept when I was in nursing school all those years ago.  Yes, I can say all those years--because technically it has already been a decade from some point in that crazy journey to now.  I recall learning that when people of all ages feel like they are falling apart they return to that one position that they innately know, and will always know.

It's no lie.  I am falling apart.  My hair is falling out in clumps, I look like a ravaged cabbage patch doll that has been joined to a very adventurous fun loving, no harm seeking, little girl with a pair of scissors in her hand.  I mean look at me and laugh for once.  I look like that poor doll every little girl has ruined and then went off crying to their momma because dolls hair doesn't grow back.  

I found myself in a very critical position the other night.  Without too many details, I was in a fetal position in my bed, middle of the night, rocking back and forth telling myself who I am, what I am facing, and that I want to live.

Turns out that nursing instructor was right on.  We turn to the one position we knew before our physical air breathing journey began--the fetal position--when life gets too hard.  I did.