The whirl-a-gig

Yesterday I told Jasmine I felt deeply distracted in my life. I couldn’t elaborate further; I didn’t know how. 
I can only say this: I feel like I am in a cavern of water. My feet on the ground, the water slowly rising. Around me are walls too slippery and too tall to climb. Above me is open, the air changes and the time changes and I feel it all but I cannot figure out how to get out and be there before the water overtakes me. I keep telling my loved ones “I’m drowning.” Im the only one who can get me out, and I feel ok with that part. 
What does this have to do with, you wonder perhaps? I don’t know. The merry-go-round is feeling very disconnected and fast. I don’t remember how I got on or why. I certainly don’t know how to get off. 
Last night I took Bella out to the backyard and there high in the sky and glowing was a half moon. The crickets were singing. And the grass was soft. And the hush of deep summer was upon me. 
Monday night before going home after work, I snapped this photo of the crepe Myrtle. It looked like cotton candy and it made me inhale to see it. 
In these moments I am so close to myself, when joy flutters a breath comes easy. But the rest is a bright blur of confusion and disconnection, at times despair. I’m struggling to be in this moment. I’m struggling with my anger, which has come from a deep unhealed place. I’m struggling with feeling necessary and I am struggling with having a tired heart. 
Friday I walked and walked around the neighborhood meeting the wall of tall evergreens many times. I looked up at the tip-tops of them and prayed: “Oooh, you know so much more than me and all you do is stand there and watch me fume.” The trees replied in a shivery tone: “We are waiting for you to do more than go around and around the same way you’ve already been.” “Ok, I thought, I can do that.”
Im still trying to figure out how.