Said Lord Please Give Me What I Need, He Said There's Pain And Misery

I'm having these immense periods of anxiety. I'm doing my best to ignore them. I got good at this the year I turned thirty. I had a state of anxiety (most likely set off by two babies back to back and the toxic soup of hormones they created plus a handy dandy genetic predisposition to being anxious) that lasted for several years. I basically woke up mid panic attack and stayed that way until bed, where I'd mentally talk myself down to slow my heart rate so I could sleep.

Time was kind and and those periods passed. My body rebooted, by brain healed. I did it all without drugs (I didn't even drink very often at the time ha!) because I am nothing if not stubborn and medicine phobic. When they say 'very rare side effects are...' they show a picture of me next to it. My system is sensitive and temperamental. I shun drugs whenever possible.

So anyway, I'm having these rushes of anxiety. Electrical tides that flood around me and jolt me like I'm grabbing a big handful of charged barbed wire. But it isn't stopping me. Fuck it. I'm at 37 scary pages in the BSP and lots and lots and LOTS of kinetic energy. Plus long sweaty walks in the wet wool blanket Baltimore air with his highness, fat red wiener dog.

Plus, I rediscovered Screaming Trees. They were in the basement. The CD, not the band. Shadow Of The Season is a bit of an anthem right now. I'm just going forward, head down, helmet on, fight, fight fight. I tell myself "Thirteen more pages before you can see if this fucker floats" and "everything happens for a reason".

Watched Shutter Island tonight and wow. Wow. I have seen four movies this year I felt were worth my time, most others have been stinkers, this one was one of the four. The man did not agree. He went to bed after the first hour telling me 'a bit slow' between snores. Heh.

XOXO
Sommer