As humans we easily become creatures of habit, comfort and denial. How do you teach an old dog new tricks? With people, I have found that one catalyst can be pain. Pain settling into your body can force change out of necessity. Discomfort will move […]
Tag: chronic illness
It’s looming and crawling beneath.
It’s the reason I can feel my arm hairs raise with the goosebumps as they create a braille like story of my anxiousness, tattooed by my own subconscious across my skin. It’s the just below the surface panic I feel in silent moments, or loud ones. Loss of control, I’m on the verge, I attempt to think through every moment of every day before it unfolds. Trepidation is there, I can feel it. I remind myself to breathe. Constantly feeling one wrong step, wrong word, or wrong action away from a catastrophic panic meltdown. The reasons I feel dread echo loudly in my brain incessantly.
Is this a side effect of nagging perfectionism or the inability to see past my own pain? Maybe the agitation on the rise is both some days. How will I survive another minute, another hour, or another day?
It’s the maximum stressed feeling but it’s with me all of the time. There’s never a break. If I don’t think about my breath I hold it as I wait for the other apocalyptic shoe to drop.
I must keep the panic below the surface as though my skin holds back the insane hysteria. Like it’s interwoven and makes up all of me.
In the event I let it spill out, anxiety makes me crazy. I claw at my flesh in attempts to let the panic escape me. In that heightened frenzy I feel trapped inside myself. Tears and nonsensical strings of words flow freely. I collapse. I beat my own legs.
Breath. Breathe. Breath. Breathe. Nothing calms me down in those moments except letting the panic run its course. If these feelings escape they only has so much steam. Trepidation seems to run on fumes for days before the emotional explosion.
Recognizing the distance from my goals is much easier than recognizing the distance I’ve made from my starting point. I know that in the last year I’ve changed. I’ve grown, I’ve improved myself physically and mentally. I spend less time self loathing and more time self advocating. I’m less inclined to please the crowd and more inclined to take care of myself however the panic still exists, buzzing just below the surface. At any moment torturous negativity will spill through my mental veil rubbing my nose in the path I still must travel to achieve my expectations of success.
I’ll endure in my pursuits of mental health and happiness. Even though at times the just below the surface panic feeling is just as relentless, I’ll continue to dance with it through turmoil and fear letting it propel me to be my best self.
One breathe at a time. Inhale the calm. Exhale the panic.