…. since I have written. It is this thing, I do a writing course then suddenly think i cannot write … so I don’t.
But today … I am driven to write because today that horrid feeling has returned to my stomach, that dragging hateful anxious feeling. My blood pressure increased, I felt my pulse rate increase, my leg was jiggering about … all the signs I have been taught to out look for, the signs my body provides. I am grabbing for my notes from my psychologist, looking, hunting out what I did to reduce the stress and anxiety related to my work.
Confrontation, all of the times I have tried before with this person to bring them into line … to make them more socially acceptable and it all comes tumbling down and impacts on me, on my health … well enough is enough, no more thank you. Set a plan, follow it and know you can deal with whatever.
Breathe, diaphragm breathing, feeling it pull down as my lungs fill up …. one, two, three, four, five … and repeat. Searching around the room for five things to feel, see or touch to bring me back to the present and to safety. Then comes the hard part … at home, at night, trying to stop the thoughts, do not let them invade my mind, my thoughts, my life. No more giving the power to others, I am in control of their impact on me and I say I am not having it.