Dry.
I go to the bed and sit on the edge, sinking into the plush down comforter and the feather bed below. I feel a prick of good fortune an awareness that I am lucky to have such a nice bed to sit on during my anxiety attack.
Why am I so anxious?
And then it hits me.
I'm not anxious.
I'm lonely.
And a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be so lonely because it seems catastrophic - seeing the car just as it hits you. But then all of the sudden the feeling is gone and I am blank. So its like a door, quickly opened, just a crack, to show me what a mess I was inside. But not enough to really stare for long and absorb all the details. Just enough to know the room needed major spring cleaning.
Why am I so anxious?
And then it hits me.
I'm not anxious.
I'm lonely.
And a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be so lonely because it seems catastrophic - seeing the car just as it hits you. But then all of the sudden the feeling is gone and I am blank. So its like a door, quickly opened, just a crack, to show me what a mess I was inside. But not enough to really stare for long and absorb all the details. Just enough to know the room needed major spring cleaning.