the bad days

It's been far too long since I've posted a new entry. I've missed one Poetry Thursday, one Sunday Scribblings, and many other days when it probably would have calmed my inner nerves to just sit down and write. Unfortunately, I just haven't felt like writing, or doing much of anything. I wish that I had a better explanation, a more justifiable reason for not writing. But my friend of darkness bears no warning at times, and so the veil of clouded anxiety fell upon me unexpectedly.

Tuesday was spent with an afternoon at the pool and a delicious dinner of grilled salmon and veggies cooked by my own personal favorite chef. A longtime dear friend, he and I had grown apart for a time and only rekindled the depths of our friendship this previous summer when his best friend passed away. Between the presence of his girlfriend and all the craziness of the days, we never grieved together. In fact, we never really spoke about the death or the funeral or all the drama that surrounded that time, or the drama of the months before when we allowed our friendship to fall to the wayside. We kept in contact, but our conversations remained relatively superficial. It wasn't until last Wednesday night that our conversation flowed from the heart, the tears finally being released. And still, the full outpouring of all we needed to say was not complete.

Wednesday I awoke early with familiar feelings of nausea and attempted as best I could to prepare myself for a journey home to visit my family. Six hours in the car and two anxiety pills later, I arrived at my parents' home only to have the feelings of anxiety and nausea increase as the hours passed.

Thursday I managed to enjoy a shopping adventure with my sister, dinner with my grandparents, and a glass of shiraz at my favorite local bar. But as the warm red wine flowed into my body, the comfort and relaxation I was seeking were nowhere to be found. By the time I returned home and went to bed, the anxiety was slowly creeping back in.

Friday morning was spent on another shopping adventure with my sister with an afternoon at the pool following. Ordinarily, such activities would be the epitome of my therapeutic day, but the nerves followed me through each store and left the blood within me cold even as the sun's rays warmed my body. Supper was another ordeal, with each bite leaving me panic-stricken and aching for home.

Saturday was another up and down day, but with the nerves finally settling by late afternoon.

And so Sunday, I awoke with hope, with a more calm feeling, and with the knowledge that the comfort of my own home was awaiting me. I expected a relatively uneventful ride home, but two hours into the trip, I could feel the shallowness of my breath quickening and could literally see the trembling of my hands. Not much later, it hit...my first full-blown panic attack in many, many months. The blinding dizziness, the pounding heart, the sweaty palms, the blurred vision, the debilitating nausea...it was too much. Another anxiety pill and two more treacherous hours later, I finally made it home.

So this morning I awoke, wondering if this horrible episode of anxiety and depression would still be lingering. Was it the aftereffects of an emotional conversation with a friend whom had grown distant that set the stage for these past five days? Was it returning to my hometown and finally experiencing a new awareness that I just don't fit in there anymore? Was it the pressure of being surrounded by family and not having a way out (I rode down with my sister and left my car in Atlanta)? Or was it simply another unexplanable episode that would continue to dwell within me until one random day the world once again appeared brighter? These were my questions when I awoke this morning, wondering what today had in store for me and my nerves.

I still don't know what brought this massive attack of emotions to the surface. But they have yet to vanish. For moments, even hours, I am fine. And then suddenly, without warning, I feel my breath quickening, my heartbeat increasing, that feeling of internal "shaking" that threatens to put me back in bed. I am fighting it! I am fighting hard. But these past several days have been bad.

I hate seeing the world in muted hues, shivering from a cold that lies within my soul. I hate wondering if tomorrow will only be more of the same and knowing that even if it is, I must somehow summon my courage and make it through the day. In the midst of all of this, the one thing I love, the one thing that brings me so much hope is the man that loves me enough to walk beside me and hold my hand, even on these worst of days. With no questions and no need for explanations, he brings smiles amidst the tears and helps me take one step at a time. Until the bad days end, I'm walking slowly and carefully...but with hope.

**Note: I did not reread this before posting. I also did not censor or put much thought into the actual "writing" of this post. I simply wrote...after finding the courage to share with you the reason for my absence.**