I move about my morning routine with a familiarity that has come from months of habit. I get up, make my bed, get dressed, get breakfast. I pop a fresh K-cup into my Keurig and wait as it brews up the cup of coffee that has now become a regular part of my daily routine. The scent, the flavor, I have come to associate as a reward for getting out of bed in the morning, for putting my feet on the floor, for succeeding in defying the part of my brain that just wants to pull the world back over my head and hide.
My skin tingles with that all-too-familiar electric buzz that comes from increased anxiety. It originates from my brain stem and drives downward through the rest of my body, making every nerve ending light up like fire. I feel as though I’m burning alive from the inside out. But this is nothing I’m not already well accustomed to. It’s uncomfortable, but not debilitating, and so I move forward in spite of it.
I’ve slept poorly, of course, only about four hours or so, and for the second night in a row. As a result I already know today is going to feel longer than usual. I know the trigger for my anxiety — I’ve become adept over the last year at identifying my triggers — but like so many times, this is one of those where there is very little I can do about it. It will be several days before I can resolve the issue, so part of my plan for today will involve planning out my time between now and then to stay busy, engage in therapeutic hobbies, and make plans that will hopefully help to avoid similar situations in the future.
This anxiety, it’s a familiar companion. It rides my back like a homunculus with razor-sharp claws, refusing to be bucked off despite my best efforts. Few people even know it’s there; I’ve become an expert at hiding it and doing my best to function in spite of it. It’s invisible to everyone but me, but it is always there, doing its damndest to wear me down, tear me down, shred my mind and my flesh, and strip me of my will and strength. Sometimes it succeeds. But today is not one of those days. Today I am the master, it the slave. I will not fall prey to its parasitic tendrils weaving through my mind, my emotion, my will. I have things to do, and my mind is sharp as ever, making it a small task to drive that devilish imp back into the darkness where it wants me but where it belongs.
I finish my coffee and rinse out the mug. I already have a half-formed list of things I want and need to accomplish today. I’m eager to get a jump on them, to distract myself from this electric buzz, to fill my mind with the things I enjoy rather than the things I fear. There will be time to deal with the fears later. There is little I can do about it for now, and so it’s pointless to waste precious energy worrying.
It’s time to get this day started.
