My children are sharks.
They smell the weakness in me. The vulnerability. The lack of energy for a fight. They know they have me, circling, pushing buttons, until they swoop in for the kill. I used to be so strong, so unwavering, so disciplined.
I have hope. In ten weeks I will regain my strength. I might be exhausted but it is a good exhaustion and I manage to run on pure adrenaline. The weakness fades. I find my balance. I regain my position as top of the totem pole instead of steadily falling and letting the little creatures climb over me.
Let's hope I don't get eaten before then.