The freeway hums in my body,

But its only a memory. A fear filled memory of speed, guard rails, clear roads, fast, then sudden breaks.

I do fine, day to day. I get things done. I have positive interactions with people in my community.

I set up my 50/50 piece at the Sanchez Art Center yesterday. It looks fantastic.

I started a new series of stitched portraits. I’m excited by my new stitched work.

Crushing anxiety, fear.

Feelings.

Sadness. Traumatized.

Traumatized and paranoid.

My eyes hurt. I know its just fear. Anxiety.

I’ve become a person who doesn’t even imagine a time I would live without anxiety medication.

I used to think I would someday feel relaxed. Now I never have those thoughts. I feel like I live in a constant state of fear, anxiety, and paranoia.

In the car yesterday, I had a moment where I felt like I couldn’t breath. I wasn’t driving.

Was it a dream? Is the fear my imagination?

Is the sadness real?

I try not to think about the rainforest burning or the sad girl crying on the playground this morning when I dropped my kids off. Her cries echoed in my mind though out today.

My fear the way other people drive and get mad and are wound up tight.

I’m scared. I know others are too. In their own ways. Going through their own depressions and hardships.

I know it’s not easy.