This morning, I awoke in the throes of a panic attack. And it was HUGE. A whirlpool of chaos, sucking me down with constant thoughts of distress, failure, pain, hurt… And ultimately, the solid fact that You Cannot Do It.
Somehow, I managed to grab on to a lifeline in my mind (and a pillow in reality). Somehow I stepped out of that barrage of awfulness, managing to see it from the outside: a black hole of destruction, from which nothing good can emerge. But that wasn’t me.
I remembered who I was. I remembered how to breathe. I got up, found coffee. Showered, prepared for work.
I am now home, from a fast-paced, full day. Hectic and demanding, at top speed… But I did it. I Could, and Did.
Someone spoke to me today of battling his own demons. Sharing made the tension fall away from his shoulders; as the session went on, his smile grew, until silly jokes were being shared instead. ‘I feel so much better for coming here.’
Battling for what is owed, for those I care for. ‘Go kick arse, Cat!’ Because they know I will.
Such words are worth more than gold. If the panic had won, I would not have heard them, because they may not have even been spoken.
I survived today, and the demons did not win. Not just me, but those I touched with words, smiles… and a little Force Lightning.