What is this...

What is this...
This measure of gravity is more than I can bear for long.
The waves wash stinging salt water into my nose,
Knocking me down when think my sea legs are established.
I've travelled many miles and days,
But mud slogs my weary mind with the past.
I say, "Be done!"
I hear, "I'm done for!"
Still, I rise every day and plod along through the hours alone,
Too afraid to bear my heart to the storm.

This poem is about: 
Me

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