To navigate the unknown, we need a compass. Well, I do–that and a GPS, although I would rather use a map.
I have memories of a period of time in my life I was confident. I may have been uncomfortable doing something, but I did it anyway.
To deal with an anxious way of life, I was mean. Rude. Indifferent.
I wonder how I slept during those years. I don’t recall ever having a problem.
Maybe having children amplified my anxieties. I know that I left various anxieties untreated for too long. Instead of an issue to correct, I now have to change an entire way of thinking, which has become my life.
Some don’t understand the toll anxiety takes on the body, mentally and physically.
After my mini trip of anxiety hell to the city, I still feel wiped out.
I can’t sleep. I never sleep well.
Every new bed and pillow on the market, gives me hope that it will be the answer to my nighttime torture.
Sleep is necessary to keep my compass from spinning out of control, yet my mind will not rest. Or, is it the pain in my body that steals sleep.
Lack of sleep makes it hard to think, much less have positive thoughts, and conquer anxiety or depression.
A life of avoidance becomes more enticing, because everything that comes out of my mind, struggles through a dense fog.
Lack of sleep makes me an irrational, emotional, weeping pile of a human.
And I wonder why it is so hard to fight and conquer.
Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.