warmth

My mind is in a constant state of 
Frozen paralysis.
I'm stuck in time.
Behind the "I don't know"s
Between the "what if"s
Inside the "what could have been"s
And right below the worries of what will be.

Sometimes these past or present fixations 
Leave my body feeling
Empty.
As if I'm watching myself from afar.
Watching my body tremble,
My heart beat faster and faster,
The tears fall.
My head emptying.
Lightheaded, thoughts everywhere.
Catch them before they leave.
Too many to hold.

With each thought, 
Another body part shakes,
Crumbles like ancient pyramids or glaciers in the sun.
I just want it to stop
Do I?
I just want to stop feeling this way
Can I?
I just want to bask in a single second of solitude
Is it possible?

Wanting to rewind
Just to fast forward.
So I can show my old worrying self
That I will be 
OK.

Okay
/ˌōˈkā/ - satisfactory but not exceptionally or especially good.

I find it difficult to stay where I want to.
In a moment of sadness I wish to escape
Time moves as if time has no where to be.
In the odd moment in which I am relieved or happy, feeling loved, loving
One where I wish to stay forever
Time sabotages my mind and speeds up.
Before I know it
It's over.

And the next emotion arrives.
When happiness is here I embrace it.
I rise higher and higher.
And when happiness leaves
When the high is over
When I begin to fall
That's when sadness comes knocking on my door.

I've been through it enough to know I'll be ok.
But sadness has my hands behind my back,
My ankles in shackles,
My mind unaware of surroundings,
Sadness steals my thoughts,
Robs me of emotions other than itself,
And leaves me trapped.
Although I've escaped before
I feel there's no way out.

As soon as sadness loosens its grip
Decides it doesn't need to control me,
If only for a moment,
I return.

Beginning to feel my limbs again,
Thinking more clearly,
Regaining feeling in my body.
It's not happiness, though.
The opposite of my sadness is apathy;
Indifference, unconcern,
Frigid coldness.
Toxic and constant.

In my apathetic normalness
All I crave is sensitivity, sympathy,
& warmth.

stigma

i sat across from them.

i think their name is something familiar.

couldn't seem to bring it to the tip of my tongue.

the matching door and desk placard read Dr. so-and-so.

no white coat, though.

 

theres this imbalance i have.

they told me it's in my brain.

and by imbalance they "don't mean one lobe is bigger than the other" *faded giggle*

it's funny.

so funny.

this imbalance has made me so strong.

has taught me ways to cope with it and ways to show strength when i have none.

yet

they told me delicately.

as if i was fragile.

and it made me feel 

crazy

or something.

taking flight

buckle up.
sometimes it's hard to discern the difference between sadness and anxiety. 
because for me, they've almost always come hand in hand.

i sit feeling heavy, not shaky this time.
just heavy.
tear-stained cheeks.
i want the blinds closed.
and my blankets over my face.
sadness is steering.

then i find myself worrying about my life.
unsure.
my grandma.
her health.
she's ok, right?
what am i studying for?
where will i be?
5 years?
10 years?
this weekend?
i miss home.
i think of memories intangible.
ones i can no longer find the comfort of living in.
if only for a second.

moments like these i realize my anxiety is a co-pilot tonight.

all of the emotions in my body are seated in rows and the two most powerful are unfortunately in the cock pit.

'buckle up' i tell myself.

the only thing i know to do is prepare for crash landing.

sundays

anxiety feels like...

the last night before everything starts again.

the pick-up station for uncontrollable worry.

the sinking feeling you get when you realize what awaits you in the next seven days.

anxiety feels like...

the exhales, the last amount of breath at the bottom of your chest, exasperation.

that heavy feeling in your gut when you remember to do something that should've been done an hour ago.

anxiety feels like...

driving on a cloudy day, the barometric pressure pushing your temples in so hard your head begins to ache.

like being on the empty and barren road, not able to see anything other than the trees without leaves or the long yellow and white lines on either side that follow you to your destination.

anxiety feels like...

emptiness.

like vultures circling dead areas.

like the last few hours of sanity.

anxiety feels like a sunday.

To: You Fr: Me

I wish I could adopt anxiety,

give it a home. 

So that it no longer lingers

in your racing mind.

So that the sweat

on your palms could dry.

So that I can watch it,

worry about where it is.

That way, you can

let that anticipation go,

stop wondering where it hides,

no longer fear rounding corners.

I wish I could show anxiety compassion,

care for it.

So that it would know love.

So that it would know healthy love,

not abusive love.

So that it would stop beating on you.

I would show it love so that maybe

it could, in turn, show love of its own to you.

I wish I could teach anxiety tenderness.

That way, it could touch you with 

an occasional gentle nervousness,

rather than grabbing you by the neck

and taking the last square inch of air 

out of your lungs.

So that when it crosses your mind, you are finally able

to take deep breaths, to shoo it away with a gentle breeze

rather than starting a tornado of gasps

to try to rid of it.

I would I could tame anxiety.

So that when your mind wanders, you are able

to stop the violent shakes.

So that you could tell it where to "sit" and "stay" 

maybe for just one night,  a few hours even.

Just so you could leave your room, see faces, have fun.

I wish I could help anxiety communicate.

So that you could get a grasp on what exactly 

you're feeling, try to decipher each element

of this violent mental crisis.

That way, when your friends ask why you're so quiet,

you can begin to explain the bottled up emotions,

ready to explode.

Oh, how I wish I could take it all away.