Mornings.

by xcannedx

It’s 40 minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off.

I have yet to open my eyes.

I know this because this is how it is every morning.

It’s as though I haven’t even slept yet.  My brain is on the move ready to guard itself from anything and everything.  The first thought I recognize is the one where I acknowledge that I feel dread.  I clue in to the fact that this morning will be like every other morning.  After this acknowledgement I feel sad because the day has already started off with a struggle.  It’s at this point where I immediately start going over all the things that are upsetting me – or that have potential to upset me through out the day.  I’m fighting the fear of a panic attack.

I can feel the anxiousness rising from my stomach into my throat and lower into my intestines as I begin to feel pain.

I wonder if I’ll be able to fight it off sooner than later.

I still haven’t opened my eyes.

I start to debate whether now is the time to take Ativan or if I should fight it out.  Every morning I debate how long should I try to wait until I give in.  Should I wait until I’m out of the house and on my way? Do I  take it now in order to forget the horrible feeling sooner than later?  Do I risk struggling later on once I’m at work?  So I risk having that massive panic attack that I’m frightened of? Interspersed in these thoughts are random fears that I’m having about life and my existence.

All of this happens in a matter of minutes.

I still haven’t opened my eyes.

I take a deep breath and start my day.

 

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