And it feels like each of my ribs are cracking simultaneously. The power of my own mind is constricting every rational thought to break free from this.
Not again. 4am is hollow, silent, peaceful. Ironic, right? Because I am anything but 4am right now. I find either peace or terror in the darkness. But terror and I seemed to be building quite a relationship as of late.
Xanax? Another one? Will that help me drift into a calm state of slumber? Or will I just be numbing myself, and slamming on the breaks; postponing the outburst. My mind is a wrecking ball and I am up for demolition.
Irrational seems to be my middle name. My head and my heart believe two completely different things. There’s no compromising with the Devil in my mind. He ensures I feel the wrath of his malicious ways; the collateral damage is unjustified.
Everything is all just in my mind and it will be okay- something I recite to myself in the darkest moments of panic. But will it be? In those moments, the entirety of existence is questionable.
Tell me this will pass?
Yes. You will survive.
