Some days are good.
I’m up, and engaged with my fellow humans at work, I can concentrate on my tasks, and focus on my goals. I get through the day with hardly a hiccup, and rest easy that night when I come home, knowing that I’ve accomplished something.
I like those days.
I savor those days.
Because, there are other days…
The ones where I wake up, with a vague feeling of dread at the back of my throat, unsure why I’m uneasy. It’s hard to swallow around the lump, and my whole body seems to vibrate at an elevated pace.
My hands shake throughout the day, not reacting to the anti-anxiety meds that are supposed to calm these tremors.
My head aches, and I find my jaw clenched at odd times, and have to actively work my muscles to loosen the joint.
I can feel my heart racing right through my clothes, and I’m almost certain that others can hear & see it too, revving like a hi-test engine, with intermittent pounding of the pipes rapping as it revs down.
Short-tempered, I try to keep my head down & mouth shut at work, never knowing what’s going to light the match on my fuse.
And, at the odd moment, I’m overwhelmed by sadness, almost drowning in grief – over what… I’m usually not sure. Nothing major has happened, I think to myself, so why do I feel like weeping?
Everything seems to cascade at once, a massive memory dump into my adrenal system… flooding it with hormones and adrenaline.
Exhausting – even to think about.
I know this, having been through it more than once. It always does.
I’m resilient, or so I’ve been told. And I’ll bounce.
But somedays, it feels like the bottom of the pit…
And the light is very far away.