That last post
That felt whiny. It wasn’t meant that way. I’m just awake now, stupid dreams floating through my body like a past life. I feel them like they just happened in reality. I was *just* there not an hour ago. My stomach is in knots.
The pain is getting to me. I feel that familiar caged animal panic coming on and I think I just don’t want to be alone with it this time. Dayne promptly removed himself from the room when he smelled the slightest waft of nightmare coming off me. He can’t talk about them with me. He gets so angry that … Well, I’m not sure what he gets angry about. The past i guess. That these nightmares exist in the first place. So I’m alone in my kitchen starting to feel the room spin with fear but my body hurts so much I don’t want to stand up and get more anti-anxiety meds. They make me tired anyway. Too many downs and too few ups.
My friend Drew reached out to me after the last post. I’ve been not talking for ages and he still wants to be there. I love you Drew. Thank you for being who you are. Not on a good roll with friendships just now but your message meant a lot. (*loves*)
I’ll be fine. Work tomorrow. Need to keep my head on to cope with that shit-show.