Crash

I crashed hard yesterday.  Not the fall-into-bed and sleep 10 hours sort. More like a spend the day with cycling panic attacks, passing out from a particularly intense wave of fear, crippling self judgment, curled up in a ball breathless crying crash.

The shitty thing is that I felt this one coming and didn't know how to stop it.  I didn't reach out to anyone.  Or take the time off like I promised myself.

Self judgment.  Exhaustion.  Those are fucking monsters that hide in the closet behind the fancy dresses.  Waiting for a quiet moment to remind you that they haven't gone anywhere.

The fucked up thing about panic attacks is that every time one happens it feels like I'm completely betrayed by my body and mind. I just can't fathom how its capable of that shit.

I'm walking along all tickety boo and bam, the bottom drops out.  In a heart beat I'm flooded with hopelessness.  My heart responds by attempting to squeeze out the despair with rapid fire pulsing.

And now that's a recipe for disaster.  Mind and body uncoordinated and stepping on each other's toes every third step.  Dizzinesss.  So dizzy sometimes that I lose vision or pass out.

Then the real fear kicks in.  What's going on?  Am I dying?  How do I stop this?  Do I bother someone for help or try to deal with this by myself?

Where's the fucking reason for this??  When is it going to stop so I can have my goddamned life back?!

Lessons, growth blah blah bullshit.  Just another way to turn judgment back on self.

Sure, there's triggers.  Of course there's triggers.  Big ones, little ones, unsuspecting ones.

And I've got some pretty big ones right now.  But preventing them would mean distancing myself from the source.  Which I'm so fucking tired of doing.

I want to face the stuff that arises in my life.  To have the tough conversations.  To sit in the shit.  To be open in spite of my protective desire to close.

The only real purpose in life I've found that makes any sense to me is love.  And closing off means hiding from love.  I know because I did it for years.

Closing off was about avoidance.  And numbing.  Trauma will do that to you.  It's easier to shut off than deal when you feel unsafe.

But it's not that time anymore.  And I don't want to live like that.  I've tasted the freedom and joy of love.  And I'm not ever going back.

So I guess this panic thing is just part of it for now.

And today is a new day.

Becoming One with Fragility

If I were watching someone else I would say be gentle, go slow. It's ok to crack open and hurt from the inside. Sometimes we have to crack open as part of a transitions. It may hurt but that doesn't make it bad, merely uncomfortable.

Sitting still, trying to hold myself. I'm lonely and yet isolating myself probably on an intentional subconscious level. Why? I'm scared and overwhelmed and just feeling so weak.

I feel small and so tender. Like a delicate flower being thrashed by the wind yet there is only a gentle breeze nudging my soft petals. Every gust feels so aggressive and damaging. Hold still, hang on, survive.

Why the fuck is this such a struggle? Why can I muster up the strength of that warrior inside me. Because she is me and I am her. Together we stand (or lay) through it all.

I have never felt so solitary. Like the one daisy in a meadow. Exposed, unprotected, vulnerable and fragile. Somehow it still exists.

Even this writing feels disjointed and choppy. Lacking fluidity, power and grace of the beautiful warrior from the past.

My stomach flips again. I'm told I should eat, I can't. I'm told I should move my body, I'm stuck. You need rest, so I take the medicine. It feels like I'm being selfish so I try to distance myself to avoid impacting those around me. However, every interaction leaves it's mark.

Formulate a plan, that has to be the solution right. I don't know. I don't know how to make a plan for this. What steps to take. Who do I talk to or not. When is good. The plan doesn't make enough sense and I'm too exhausted to continue thinking.

I have no idea what is next or what I should do so I sit.