Paranoia is something that I have grown accustomed to. When I walk down the street, when I can make it out the door, I am followed by acute anxiety. "People are judging me" rushes and swirls all around me, sapping my will and taking my breath away. I scream inside as I stand on the corner waiting for the light to change. I look down, arms crossed, tears welling and make my way across the street.
In a car I cringe at stop lights. All my thoughts are replaced with images of destruction and death. My body braces for impact, feet mashed into the floor. I shake my head, sing and smoke. I am exhausted when we get there. I don't drive these days.
At home I am pinned to the bed, crippled by anxiety and a deep sense that I must die because I am broken.
Now, I take seven pills a day, plus one before I go out the door. The pills allow me to get up out of bed and put one foot in front of the other.The pills help me get dressed without being so critical that I won't get dressed at all. For now, the pills keep me pushing forward. For the last month I have not experienced anxiety on that level. I have also been mostly free of the familiar ups and downs. No one knows why the pills work, they just do.
When I wasn't looking peace came quietly like a cat and curled itself upon my lap. When I wasn't looking love found me and wrapped itself like a blanket around my shoulders. I dream that I could sit hear like this and never have to face the world again. It has taken so long to get here.