My closed eyes won’t let me see what’s right in front of me, but will navigate deep into the what-used-to-be. My attempt to drop the baggage as I make my way out of this black hole that seems to have no fin or starting point, has failed me every time, bringing me back to that dreaded point, starting back at one. Progress seems so slow; a step forward ends up being two steps backward. Still, no finish line in sight on this, the longest stride. And forget my cluttered mind — can find no solutions there. The fog inside is thick and thoughts are all in knots, words lose their…