Though everyone tells me they can't imagine it, I have a real problem at the juncture of self esteem and anxiety. For the most part, I manage to keep my demons at bay. There's the keeping really busy. There's the avoidance of 'high risk' thoughts. There's the heavy work of keeping up a front that fools. I get by. Most of the time.
Last night, at 2:14 (I love the specificity of the digital age) I rolled over only to find anxiety's yellow eyes staring into mine. I was caught off guard. The rest of the night was tortured with worry over things that won't happen, panic over things that will, dreams that attack, waking moments of terror. I refused to get up. I refused to distract myself at the computer playing bleary eye'd 'eight letters in search of a word - multiplayer version'. No, I stayed and wrestled.
Now I'm up. My stomach hurts from being knotted for hours in the night. There is still the slight left over anxiety in my chest - not fully cast out, not fully in control. There is yet the need to reassert a sense of self, pick up the shatter bits from the floor by the bed and play jig saw puzzle for an hour or two. It'll be OK. I'll be OK.
Finally, I'll have to deal with the lingering messages of self loathing that are running around in my head like a song that's caught. Those will be harder to exorcise. Those come, unbidden, pretty much at will. But they rejoice in times of weakness like this. Times when anxiety has fought and won control of hours of my life.
I'm fine - thanks for asking.