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Reasoning vs. Anxiety


It’s a shade of black I can’t describe; heavy and hot, but it’s cold sometimes too. There are flashes of green and swirls of ugly. I want to cry, but can’t breathe deep enough to actually make a sound. Icy hot knives slice between my shoulder blades and move up as far as my ear lobes, which is when the deafening ringing begins. It’s so loud I can’t even hear it. At the same time my joints ache and my stinging dry eyes get foggy. Everything is blurry. I still want to cry but no breath has come yet. All I can think is HOW? HOW? HOW? It’s not even clear to me what I am asking ”How?” about… it’s just what word keeps flashing in my head. I see it. Bold. White. Crisp. All caps. HOW? Once the initial feelings of incapacitation pass, the burning fog lifts, and I’m able to see clearly again. Reasoning stands beside me. The only problem is that Reasoning sometimes makes everything more confusing because I don’t even know what it is that I’m trying to make sense of in my whirling, boiling, swooshing head. How in the world can she make it sensible? Other times Reasoning becomes my friend; I’m able to hold her hand and walk backwards through time. She helps me label everything and put it back in its assigned place. She helps me sweep out the dirty blackness that stretches over my brain, heart, and stomach. She helps me breathe again. She helps me realize that the world hasn’t ended. Reasoning helps me realize I just needed to adjust my afternoon plans; my husband got sick, which meant I should go to the grocery store before my church meeting instead of cleaning house. 

Sometimes I wish Reasoning would kick the crap out of Anxiety. 

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