November 13th 2021

 I feel like things are just slipping through my fingers.

I feel like I can’t focus.

The meds help for an hour or two.

Then the worry sets in.

I’m falling further and farther behind.

Every noise is happening in my head at once. Simultaneously I’m gathering information on five conversations, the TV, my water heater. My shirt is overwhelming against my skin. I don’t even feel like my body is in it’s normal proportions, the cotton feels like it’s ice on my skin. Sharp yet soft all at once.

Breathing for a little while. It helps. For a moment.

I scoff that I don’t have time to worry today. I’m struggling to get through the present. That’s a blessing in and of itself. 

The exhaustion is gone today. The pain takes a back seat. Everything else is just overwhelming. I can’t process it.

Going to the store. I hung on somehow. Yet everything was telling me to run. The whole time I was screaming inside. I’m sure my face looked pained, possibly deranged. I know I couldn’t manage a smile with the grimace that took over. I wanted to run. I kept looking over my shoulder. Run. But somehow I held on.

It’s hard on her. It’s hard on them. Days like this.

But I try. And I stumble through.

Head to work. It’s already dark. It’s already better than sleeping. 

But my leg shakes. I grab headphones. I do my work as quickly as possible. 

And I make it through.

Anxiety. PTSD. I don’t know if it matters at this point. 

It’s hard. On days like this.