Thursday, April 23, 2015

Don't wake the baby.

Sometimes, I swear, anxiety is like this sleeping giant. One panic attack awakens it and it's like a restless child that can't go back to sleep.

A few weeks ago, panic hit me to the point where I was like, "Wow, was that a panic attack or is something seriously wrong with me?" (Not that attacks aren't wrong. I just notice that as we age and evolve, our panic symptoms seem to change--almost as if to keep us constantly on our feet.)

Since then, I've had some aftershocks. And my body generally feels lousy and on edge. I'm sure it's not that one attack that brought it all on--I'm aware of the stressors in my life that can get me into "a state." And while I'm not completely falling apart, I can feel a bit of what I remember to be like.

Prescription: Self-care, self-care, self-care.

Hopefully things will pick up again, and by pick up I mean slow down.


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