Do I know where my anxiety comes from?
Life and futures, multiple futures, some wonderful, some terrible, some painful and alone, some a sharp pain from the fall on the pavement just before the truck runs over me. Some overwhelmed by madness where horrible things happen to other people. Some where happiness is almost there but slips away, or is yanked from my hands while demons with family faces laugh.
Paralysis dreams aren’t the worst. The worst were when I was doing mundane things with my wife, and we laughed and talked and walked around and held each other and said how much we loved each other. And then I woke up and I was still divorced and alone and unloved and unlovable.
But now I wake up and roll over and snuggle into Deb, and she snuggles back into me, or wakes up and asks what’s wrong, and I say nothing, nothing now, nothing while you’re here with me…
And I hope your panic attacks abate, H, and your PTSD ebbs until it’s a distant gnat and not a skulking monster, and your life has a Disney Ending where the good are rewarded and the bad are thrust into the outer darkness. And you sleep with only happy dreams.
Happy dreams, dear lady!