So heres a fun little insight into anxiety...its a pain in the ass. It rarely ever goes away and you can only learn to mange it, or try and numb it for a little while. Thats why people who arent on anxiety medication usually turn to drugs, drinking, gambling or sex to distract themselves from the anxiety that gets overwhelming from time to time. I wrote a little prose (would you call this prose?) In the moment of an anxiety episode i had to illustrate what goes on when i have an attack.
I wrote this drunk, whilst having an attack so forgive me if its a little disorganised-its just how thoughts raced through my mind at the time. whats that phrase?...was it Hemmingway that said "write drunk, edit sober"? Well, that's what happened here. Enjoy.
"Missed messages on my notification widget of my phone. Oh now. That name. Not again. Heart palpitations. Why me? Why this? What now? Should i look? Should i not? Its gonna bug me if i dont. But then im damned if i look cause theyll see i read the message. Do i leave it until tomorrow? I wont be able to get to sleep. Ill keep wondering what they want.
Fuck it. Im opening it.
Okay. Its not so bad. But now ive read it. Do i reply? Do i not reply? Do i leave if and reply tomorrow? No, ill be up all night trying to think of what to say. I wont sleep. Best write something now. But what to say? I dont want to. I just want this to go away. I cant deal.
The impending doom creeps over me like a fog, enveloping my senses in its dark dreary matter. Anxiety. Its here and its staying. I sigh and steady myself. Time to craft a response.
A moment later...
SEND. There. Its done. I can go to sleep now.... except i cant. My mind races. I cant stop thinking about the words in my message. What will they think? What will they say? Will i get backlash from the proverbial shit hitting the fan? I need to relax. I need to go to bed-look at the time. But i cant sleep when im like this. My mind racing like the beating of hummingbirds wings,faster and faster as i try to leave my body and fly away to escape my current misfortune.
I put my headphone on and crank up some tunes hoping to drown out the noise that my anxiety is making. My anxiety is unwelcome noise, like a poorly practiced music student screeching irritating cords on an ill-fated stringed instrument. The music, although lovely and enjoyable, does not compare to the ruckus my anxiety makes. I need something more.
As i pace downstairs i pass the liqour cabinet, something i rarely touch now a days.
Fuck it. Im having a drink.
A nice drink, amaretto, i like amaretto...straight. thatll get me buzzed enough to shut my brain up. But wait, next to it...Bourbon. thats stronger. I dont much care for the taste on its own, but with my sweet favourite amaretto....and double the spirits. That'll do.
I grab both bottles and begin mixing the concoction. No mixers. Just straight proof. I need sleep. I dont want to feel this anxiety. I justify my actions as i take swig after swig of the amber liquid, each time feeling the anxiety fading into the background.
I change up my plan and try putting on an audio book ive listened to before and concentrate on visualizing a detailed picture of the scene and characters as the narrators describes it all in detail. I engrose myself in it, until in my mind pops up the text. No... NO. I push it down and try and focus on the audiobook again. I can feel the haze of the alcohol taking effect as a drift in and out of torn thoughts.
<His hair was the colour of ink on stained parchment of his face>
...my mind drifts from the narration as it continues to play....
I wonder if they'll reply now; my thoughts overlap the narrators voice in my ears.
I quickly put the conversation on mute so i can focus solely on relaxing with my audiobook and head to bed. If i can go to bed before X time then i will get enough sleep before i have to wake up for work tomorrow morning...must concentrate on my book. Focus solely on the book....
I can feel the spirits working as they flush through my system and my brain slows down enough to switch from one train of thought to another in a slower dopey way...
<Lazily, he ran a rough hand through his dark hair and glanced at the french doors.....>
Slowly again my attention drifts. For a few seconds its floating high above me, not engrossed in the story that has now faded away and i can no longer hear the narration. It takes a while before it comes back down to my body and im thinking of how it tingles from the sensation of being drunk and i am suddenly aware of my new slowed conciousness. Good its working...it wont be long now ..."
That's all i wrote. I know its bad to self medicate with alcohol, but sometimes its just what needs to be done for a temporary reprieve. This all reminds me of some Green Day Lyrics and they couldnt be more relevant:
1 comment:
Very well written Jenny, I can completely relate. Thank you for sharing your struggle x
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