Nocturnal Wenchy

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

There has been a new normal in my life the past six or even eight weeks. While I still felt anxious daily (that never changes), I was also feeling in control, happy, content, relevant, productive and creative.

Last night I went to sleep feeling confused, unsure and scared. The uncomfortable, frightning but familiar black darkness came.

I tried dealing with the thunder clouds zapping in my brain first thing this morning but there was no break though of light. The dark clutched its hands around my throat and held on tight. I experienced restricted breathing all day. Tears on the brink behind my smile. Sadness. Despair. Hopeless.

By evening I was forcing myself to function which mainly consisted of trying to inhale. I knew if I took my anxiety meds I may fall asleep and it was not a good time. I held out as long as I could and slipped into the night.

I thought about a person dealing with alcoholism. The addict is always recovering no matter how long they have been sober. The addict identifies triggers and avoids them.

Perhaps my anxiety ridden mind is the same. If I am present enough, I do my very best to be aware of triggers and to sidestep them. I cannot for a moment entertain the negative, feeling misunderstood or even have sadness flow over me. It is like taking that first sip of alcohol.

As I lay my head on the pillow, it is with all that I am that I wish, pray, plead that this was just a bad day, a sip…. not an entire bottle of emotion to drown myself in.

♦️Insert serenity prayer here. ♦️

Oh Lord, help me to know the difference.

I wish you enough,

Wenchy