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.
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.