Annex to week 11 submission : 

- The Weight of the Unseen -

I haven’t talked about it—not here, not yet. Not in the way that fully captures what it feels like to carry a body that doesn’t cooperate, that aches and falters in ways no one can see. The weight of it is constant, pressing into every part of my life. It turns the simplest tasks into battles : work, drive, home responsibilities, even sleep—especially sleep. There’s an anxiety and fear that comes with knowing that nothing will ever be the same, that everything takes much more effort, that there is no real break, just moments where the struggle is, rarely, somewhat, quieter.

This past Sunday, as I worked on my photo, I felt it all crash into me. The broken egg wasn’t just an accident; it was suddenly a mirror. A reflection of the frustration, the exhaustion, the way my body feels like it’s slipping through my grasp, no matter how hard I try to hold on. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel it. I sat there, staring at the cracks, at the golden yolk spilling onto the floor. I cried while writing my photo caption. It caught me off guard—this moment of grief over something I’ve been carrying for so long.

I had planned something different, just like I had once imagined my life moving along a different path, a promissing carrer, a ''normal'' futur. But I adapted, I had to. I adjusted, it was imposed to me. I made something of the moment, just like I always do. Maybe that’s what I need to remind myself : that even when things don’t go as planned, even when I feel shattered in ways no one else sees, I am still here. Still creating. Still finding meaning in the mess.

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Beautiful shot Pam, well done dear friend.

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Great shot indeed!

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Great shot, Pamela.

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