A Voice

It was almost like it had already been decided, somewhere in my mind, that I would not be able to deal with today. Like I had a predisposition to lack the ability to function today.

But I don't have the choice, I have to do something. I have to get up. I have to push this all away and hope that it doesn't impair my ability to exist like a normal human being.

Sometimes it is all too much. It's overwhelming sometimes to get out of bed, to even think about doing so. Breathing is hard, thinking is hard, crying is hard. It's so hard when things are hard because you start wondering if things will ever get easier again. You wonder when you can focus again, when you can sleep again, when you can get up again and it not take four hours.

Sometimes I don't have a voice. Sometimes I cannot do or say anything because everything is too much. Sometimes I just lay here, my mind in a whirlwind and my heart in overdrive. Sometimes breathing can panic me. Sometimes I don't know what to do or say when anxiety is at it's worst, but today isn't one of those days.

Today I can speak. Today I can type. Today I can say something to get the panic out there. Today I have a voice.

Today my anxiety has consumed me. Today it is too much. But it's okay, tomorrow will be a new day.