It is four in the morning, and my whole entire self hurts.
My thoughts have been racing nonstop for three hours, now. They got so loud that the distractions I’ve been leaning on recently weren’t keeping me safe anymore.
Body is trying to process signals that best translate to English as intense anxiety, sadness, and shame. All three at once is confusing and overwhelming.
Emotions are meant to tell us something important, I think. That is why they exist in the first place. They’re meant to move through you, communicate what they’re trying to say, and then… pass away. But mine get stuck, sometimes. Jammed. They don’t fade after the message is delivered. They stick around until it hurts.
I am trying to sort out where this is happening in my body so that I have something to work with.
Right now, this feeling is showing up as a lump in my throat. My shoulders and neck are tensed up, and my jaw is clenching. My chest is tight and my breathing is shallow. I can also feel it in the hallow space behind my eyes, the tops of my legs, in the back of my head and neck, all across my back, in my upper arms, and in my wrists and hands.
This is worse than usual. It doesn’t usually spread through my entire body like this, which means that there are fewer corners of me that feel kind of okay right now.
The safest feeling places right now are the ones in contact with blankets. Lots of heavy blankets, even though it’s summertime. I am also holding a stuffed animal, which is comforting.
My brain is sifting through memories to find all of the times that I’ve made mistakes and all the things that I don’t like about me, just to fuel all this shame that is burning. The shame, in turn, is fueling the anxiety like nothing else can. And when I dwell in anxious places I often end up feeling so impossibly sad.
And I don’t understand why
And also, shame tends to set off a sharp twinge of, just – not wanting to exist. Followed immediately afterwards by a few moments of kicking myself for having that feeling.
Throughout all of this, there is a healthy portion of existential dread, along with a fair bit of helplessness. This is hard.
Over and over again, rushing, thrumming, burning, aching, shaking, crying, hurting. For hours, and days, and weeks, and sometimes on and off for years.
Fighting against this is really hard. Waiting it out is terrible but sometimes that is the best option that’s available to me.
It’s – not unbearable, but close.
There are going to be nights like this, nights much worse than this, for as long as I am alive. I am going to have to be so strong.
There is a small part of my consciousness that stays calm and quiet, throughout all of these things. There is a presence there that almost doesn’t feel like me.
It’s nurturing, and gentle, and calm, and sure, and kind, and solid. It reminds me to do things like roll over on my side because it’s easier to breathe, and tells me to get up and blow my nose when I need to. It reminds me about coping mechanisms. It doesn’t fight with the spiral of thoughts, it just – doesn’t listen, because it is predominantly focused on making sure that I’m okay, and everything else can wait until the morning.
It isn’t loud, but it’s there, and right now it’s telling me to try to sleep again, a little.
And so I am going to try. 🖤