2002Mar07

This day; this anxiety! These cycles come at such unpredictable times. I felt it coming on this time for two or three days. I want to sculpt the tightness in my chest with ropes wrapped around my heart. Thank God for ganja. I have to take the air I breathe in deeper, slower rhythm. I close my eyes; all is grey. To cry is to give in to the emotion, the heartbreak. Fear writhes in silence. My movement is stiff and I have no balance. I am high above the clouds, terrified of falling; and dying of thirst. My hole of a wound just brushed up against someone, making static. Flow. Ebb, and flow. Relax. Breathe. Some of the voices I hear are healing me. I know this is just lonliness but that’s a trigger for something larger – the fear of dying. Instead, I choose the path of smoke and sleep so I can wake up fresh and try again. Some days I tolerate more than others. Most are enjoyable up to this point. Provision; I must continue to think in terms of provision. God, that irks me! Let me just be. It is enough – time to meditate. No, time for a cigarette… and to stop this writing. I feel like a member of the insane, staring madly at these blue lines and sprawling words, spilling and spelling my ugliness out loud; dwelling on my problems. And still I am consumed by them. This is not delusional. I know I am capable, but I feel so vulnerable. The pain is so fresh……..
What is this feeling of complete inability? I shall no longer drink alcohol. Though not to blame, it exacerbates things. OCD