Drowning

In worry.

And the thing of it is I am actually amazing in a crisis.  The few times I have been there when bad things – of different magnitudes – have happened I am level-headed and practical.  I calm other people down.  I get shit done and fix what can be fixed.  You want me in a crisis with you.  Really.  You do.

But anticipation kills me.  Unknown factors trailing each other one after another ahead of me into unknowns…. Anticipation kills me.  Paralyze me.  Take my breath and words and leave me near-manic under skin so thin a paper cut would spill me out – all of me out all over everything.

The weather has been cool and windy – small storms blow in and blow out into sunshine stabbing eyes not covered by forgotten sunglasses because it was grey when they left the house…

Awkward sentences.  Awkward movements.  Wrists and fingers catch doorframes, chins and calves are pegged by car doors.  Bruises bloom.  Forget all the words to all the songs.

Or the tunes.  Have the words but lost the melody, the beat, the plot, the lot of it.

Gone.

Want nothing more than to lose myself inside something, for something to get lost inside me.  Fill me until there is light in all the dark corners and the worry has been chased away by hope and certainty.

I resent fear.  I resent that I cannot conjure my crisis self when I need her.

And through it all I know it will all be fine.  I know I will be strong when it matters.

Strong in the immediate for the things I face right now and strong in years ahead.

I know it.

I just don’t feel it.

I feel like I am drowning.