Still Life

I start by making an admission. Until fairly recently I had no idea what anxiety was like then a couple of years back I ducked dying a few times and since I’ve been introduced to the joys of being anxious. I don’t mean anxious as in ‘when’s that bloody pizza I ordered coming‘ but anxious as in ‘every muscle I have is tense and my brain feels like it is about to explode inside my skull, but fuck, I can’t let this show‘.

To an extent I can manage it or at the very least, keep it held back to the point I’m not breaking down like the heroine of a 1960’s romance comic.

This is all being brought up as right now my anxiety is in overdrive and I have no sensible way to get out of this level of anxiety without at some point without failing and/or letting someone down which means that’ll develop into another kick in the guts as things feel like I’m being driven off the edge of a cliff over and over but I never hit the bottom. It is, as one would imagine, a horrible feeling.

So there’s a bit of a Gordian Knot to solve. I need life to be still but it isn’t. You don’t get what you want.

And here’s another thing; should you be sitting there sneering at the idea of folk suffering from anxiety imagine that few minutes you feel like before you’re violently sick, but all the fucking time, and oh, you never end up throwing up which will at least let the feeling past. On top of that someone is kicking the shit out the inside of your head and you never, ever feel like you’ll be able to think clearly.

How this will pan out I have no idea, but I think the one thing that is becoming clear is that I can’t go on with this sort of rollercoaster as frankly, I have very little wriggle room with my health these days, so for now it’s a case of popping some blue pills and hoping things get better.

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