I should be asleep. I'm in bed and my eyes have been closed and I was halfway there. But I've gotten myself worked up with worry. Talking myself down from an actual panic attack, but I should have made the doctor give me some xanax or rescue meds today. I knew this was on the horizon.
It's been brewing for weeks, this unease in my mind. It's just the time of year, it's just the weather, it's Paris, it's San Bernardino, it's the upswing of traffic at airport #2. It's the shorter days and the long cold nights, the ice on the roads and the constant drip that just freezes to drip again. It's my closest friends living miles away and my inability to fix the woes of those I love. It's this damn headache that only subsides for an hour or two and then comes roaring back to blind me. The worry over bills to come and home repairs we just can't seem to get around to. The loss of my daughter, my sister, friends, family. It's this time of year, but I need to go to sleep. I should have asked for xanax.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
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