anxiety sometimes feels like hunger
sometimes it feels like the stomach flu beginning, a head swimmy dislocation, impending doom
sometimes it feels like drowning or being caught aflame
I am surfing it as best I can. Back on medication to lessen the moment to moment intensity. Doing highly unpleasant therapy in hopes of digging the roots out, but feeling I am battling kudzu, roots cross linking faster than I can dig.
I go from vaguely optimistic to truly tormented to exhausted and depleted and back again.
anxiety leaves grief in its wake.
sadness just is the underlayer, and I am trying to remain open to the messages that all of these things are bringing, but I am just missing my joyous self, my lightheartedness... I am missing me.
I am much better back on the medication, and sweater season will help me camouflage the extra weight that comes with increased stability.
But here is what i know: even in this shitty space, I am still me enough to see beauty. To stop and notice beautiful ordinary things. To paint raw edged paintings that speak of transformation. I am still present and loving. And it noticing these moments, I am pulling myself forward, hand over hand hopeful still