Days Like Today

I was going to write today about how I feel like I'm standing on solid ground again. I was going to write about being happy, and remembering how good it feels to laugh. I was going to write about finally being out of the woods, far enough out that I can turn around, look at the woods and know that I don't have to go back in.

Then something happened.

I don't know if it was my power adapter failing and my computer shutting down just as I was about to finish my homework. I don't know if it was the irrational panic attack that followed, complete with sobbing and hyperventilating. I don't know if it was the migraine that threatened to arrive earlier in the day but came full force mid-breakdown. I don't know if it was being so utterly alone, consumed by the migraine, and willing my power adapter to just work. I don't know if it was waking up, blinded by the pain I had refused to acknowledge earlier. I don't know if it was just the lack of sleep.

Maybe it was everything. But something happened. And today, today was so hard.

Days like today, they involve a lot of guilt. I feel guilty for not getting out of bed. Guilty for not doing as much as I can. Guilty for, yes, not making it to every class. Guilty for not eating enough. Guilty for feeling as if everything is falling apart, inside and out.

It's hard to look past today. I get stuck behind the pain, the exhaustion, the futility of every action. I will myself to shower, to eat something, to make a cup of coffee, do anything that keeps me from staying in my head. It's in there that I get lost. I forget that there is a tomorrow that has to be better. I forget that there are ways out of days like this. It is in there that find the cycle that only leads to more of todays, not ways out.

So I try to do things that I know make it better, easier. I let myself sleep when I can do nothing else. If any food appeals to me, I let me eat it. I drive. I go away. I play music. I do what it takes. Because I can't afford every day to be like today. I cannot afford to get lost in those woods again.

I know tomorrow will be hard too. Not as hard, not as horrible. But it won't be easy, it won't be like yesterday. It's not easy knowing that, but it makes...it makes it easier to cope with. I can prepare. Set out a schedule. Stick to my guns. And just know that I'll spend tomorrow reminding myself that there is one more tomorrow after that.

I don't know where today came from. I don't know where the...fog came from. But it hit hard. And when I wake up tomorrow it may not have cleared completely. It may still feel like everything inside of me is cracking and crumbling under the pressure. But, but I know that these days pass. I know that there is another side to this. And I will find it. I will.