Petty Worries

So, you all will have to forgive me over these next couple of days.  For reasons I don’t know, reasons I pretend not to know, and reasons I don’t really care to explain on such a public forum—every now and then I get worried.

There is no better way to explain it then that.  I just worry. About everything. I get a tight little knot in my chest and I worry until it eventually become panic. I panic and freak out about things I don’t have control over, usually during a night of insomnia, or waking up fresh from a nightmare, but almost always when I’m alone in my room.  I don’t like to panic around other people.  Maybe it’s a control thing.  Maybe it’s that I can just remember the looks of concern all too well.  Mostly, I think, it’s the guilt that I’m giving them something to worry about, and I know how much it sucks to worry.

I’m not panicking yet, which is both a good and a bad thing. I’ve gotten better at fighting it over the years, which I’m considering a good thing.  At the very least, I have gotten better about panicking only in the least disruptive of times. But it does mean that I’ve still got this tightness in my chest. Sometimes I find it hard to breath, and I have found myself literally shaking trying to burn off nervous energy and keep myself together.

So, when I sit down to try and write these things, they all come out extremely depressing, filled with pointless worries, and really make me seem worse off than I actually am.  Sadly—this is the cheeriest version I’ve been able to write. So, I’ll just go with it.

Feel free to ignore me until I have something cheery to write about again.

<3