The day started out like any other day, I suppose. I mean I wasn't fettered in anyway that was foreseeable beforehand. I was asked to come look at something in the other room and when I saw it, an undeniable heaviness full of doom and darkness crawled over me. At the time, it was almost as if I knew what was about to come over me -- almost. There's a scene from the T.V. show Once Upon A Time, that shows the whole town having a spell cast over them -- it comes in the form of a purple fog rolling in from the edges of the town, slowly working its way to the inward sanctuary. It felt much like that in the way; the feeling slowly consumed me.
Ever since, I've found myself having panic attacks and high anxiety over things that I have normally been able to deal with as an adult. I want the comfort of my bed and blankets to cover me and soothe me, but they do little to ease the dread and fear I feel. I want to hold and cuddle and snuggle the ones I love for comfort, but the comfort seems just beyond enough to help me cope. I want to seek help because I feel like I'm trapped in an elevator moving between floors, but not able to exit. I just want to cover my eyes and cry. My mind is slipping away to other thoughts of distraction, not knowing that I've missed a whole conversation or bits that were important. I'm not sure entirely what's pulling me back each time because it feels like it takes so much effort to stay present right now. I feel like I'm reliving parts of my life as a little kid. The little kid part of me that was unable to speak out and up for the things happening in my life that weren't right. I feel like I have to find my voice. I feel like a wounded animal. I feel like an adult and then I feel like a kid, both at the same time, and individually. It's an awful weird feeling. I've been triggered. In my childhood years, I had been severely traumatized, which allows me to understand why its lead up to this feeling. The trauma to describe why I feel this way is known as gross negligence. It's as if something has been unleashed to let the floodgates of emotions return to that time of trauma. As an adult, I've gone to therapy and received years of counseling to cope and adapt and overcome. And, yet this week, as an adult I feel like I've retro-ed back to the 1990's, with no clue how to operate this time machine. The only thing I know I can do is write and pray, or least try to pray, even at times that feels super hard to do. I feel like my voice isn't heard. Not that God isn't listening, but that my voice is muffled by the soundproof room I'm trapped in, much like an elevator. The only other thing that is helping also is music.
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