It kept surfacing, a worry that I couldn’t suppress. My thoughts were like loose threads and despite not wanting to unravel, I’d pull each one. Before long my worries flapped against me throughout the day, my drive peppered with frantic thoughts, dinner was laced with fretting, and my sleep started and ended with discontentment. “I need your help,” I said to Sean. The joke in our relationship, maybe more appropriately called a reality, is that I never ask for help. I’ve thrown out my back, pressed myself up against deadlines I can’t ever meet, and bitten off more than I could chew, gotten in over my head, you name the cliche and I’ve done it. Much to Sean’s chagrin I can often shimmy my…

+Read more