My anxiety looms above my mind making a fuss. I swat at it. It says nothing. It’s here to simply make me nervous. I am nervous. I’m not centered at all. Tried the incense and the spa music. Not centered at all, still.
I hate the series of poetry I’m up to in my journal. I’m thinking of skipping over the whole thing. For lack of a better word, it’s “emo”.
I just woke up. It’s nearly 8:30 at night. I’m in a lot of physical pain. Can’t sit up straight. Which means, it’s time to start my day. Eat something so I can take the pills I need to take to be semi-comfortable as I sit in a recliner and do nothing but waste away. Did you know I hate eating? It’s like a chore. I find no pleasure in it.
I think my anxiety will lessen… no I just thought about my anxiety which made it worse. It’s funny how my mind works!
Still not centered.
When my mom asked me how I was feeling, I replied, “like me”…
SHE FINALLY GOT IT.