![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I'm not me, or you, or them, or anyone.
Aug. 29th, 2011 10:50 pmExhaustion is exhausting. Being drained is draining. I feel weak and overwhelmed and overworked and overrun and all these things that should not be because I haven't done anything, damn it all.
The general anxiety is overwhelming and frightening. Not even my psychotherapist could reassure me completely, although she did help. I keep wanting to turn to Tarot, to precognition, to something and anything, to stop myself from falling into gods know what. It's hard to eat. Sometimes it's hard to breathe. Do it anyway, I say. Just fucking do it all.
My hands throb and cramp, my hips ache and twinge, my legs spasm, my arms spasm, my teeth clench, my head pounds, my heart races, my joints swell, or maybe I'm imagining that. My throat is burning, but that could be allergies. I feel so tired and strange. I want to flee, to run, but I have no strength, and nowhere to run. I'm here anyway, I'm already home. I want things I have, I have things I want. I am scared of shadows and brightness and noise and silence.
I keep looking for my Tarot decks, just to know where they are. I keep clutching the handmade pendant of selenite, kyanite, tourmaline, and copper, hoping it will truly soothe me psychically. General anxiety is irritating. I want to tear my skin away and see if I am shining or shadowed. My hands, wrists, hips, and knees ache and ache. Maybe it is time for sleep soon.
This, too, shall pass. The circle turns and turns. I want to enfold myself in my arms and whisper that everything will happen as needed. I hate not knowing, I hate the unknown, that hidden monster that never shows its face because there is no face until it happens.
It will happen. It will be fine. I will be fine.
The general anxiety is overwhelming and frightening. Not even my psychotherapist could reassure me completely, although she did help. I keep wanting to turn to Tarot, to precognition, to something and anything, to stop myself from falling into gods know what. It's hard to eat. Sometimes it's hard to breathe. Do it anyway, I say. Just fucking do it all.
My hands throb and cramp, my hips ache and twinge, my legs spasm, my arms spasm, my teeth clench, my head pounds, my heart races, my joints swell, or maybe I'm imagining that. My throat is burning, but that could be allergies. I feel so tired and strange. I want to flee, to run, but I have no strength, and nowhere to run. I'm here anyway, I'm already home. I want things I have, I have things I want. I am scared of shadows and brightness and noise and silence.
I keep looking for my Tarot decks, just to know where they are. I keep clutching the handmade pendant of selenite, kyanite, tourmaline, and copper, hoping it will truly soothe me psychically. General anxiety is irritating. I want to tear my skin away and see if I am shining or shadowed. My hands, wrists, hips, and knees ache and ache. Maybe it is time for sleep soon.
This, too, shall pass. The circle turns and turns. I want to enfold myself in my arms and whisper that everything will happen as needed. I hate not knowing, I hate the unknown, that hidden monster that never shows its face because there is no face until it happens.
It will happen. It will be fine. I will be fine.
