My morning: Bring on the pain

I spent the last two days in bed. I took my computer with me, but it just sat on the bed unused. I had every intention of writing about what I was feeling, but the words would not come. Then I thought I would at least catch up on writing responses to comments left on my posts, but the anxiety flared up and I rolled over with a pillow over my head.


The time between 2:30am and 5:00am is the time I have set aside to write. It’s me time: no one is awake and the house is quiet. But when my internal clock woke me up this morning, I didn’t get up right away. I just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the depression and anxiety to hit me.

I love that small bit of time, right as I wake up when there are no bad feelings to deal with, just calm. It’s a little bit of time to hope that things will be better, that the shit won’t hit the fan and I will just have a wonderful angst-free day.

But a few minutes later, I started to feel the stirrings of something in my stomach and chest. The anxiety hit me first, like a punch to the stomach. Nausea gripped my insides and I almost vomited all over my wife and child sleeping in bed. Before I could react to the anxiety, the babbling in my brain overwhelmed me. Images flooded my mind, all negative, and I shook my head trying somehow to dislodge them. Panic welled up in my chest, and I groaned loudly, waking up my wife. She rolled over and went back to sleep, and I was left alone with my pain.

I lay there, tossing and turning for another half-hour before I could build enough energy to slide out of the bed. All the hope I had when I went to sleep last night that I would have a good day today was gone. My body felt heavy as I walked to the bathroom. I turned on the light and stared at myself in the mirror. I somehow looked older than my 45 years, like I had aged overnight.

I finally made it downstairs and went about my normal routine: making coffee, turning on my laptop, going outside for that first wonderful cigarette of the day.

Now, here I sit, four cigarettes and two cups of coffee later, and I still feel like shit. I took an extra Clonazepam to see if it will help with the anxiety, but I don’t think it will. I know I should be thinking positive, maybe deep-breathing, but all I am doing is focusing on the pain. My brain is babbling, my stomach is churning and my whole body aches like I have the flu.

Through all that, I wrote this post. I wanted to write something positive and thought-provoking, but this is all I could get out today.

I hope it’s enough.

Follow me on Twitter: @SchizoIncognito


13 thoughts on “My morning: Bring on the pain

  1. Hey, at least you got this post out, which would have been a major feat by the sound of it.
    I hope things improve as the day goes on. Does it work like that, for you? Or not?
    Take care. May tomorrow be a better day. Especially the 2:30 – 5:00am shift.

  2. You just described what I have happen all the time–when I wake up and that period that feels great–you’re not ruminating, just thinking about how great it will be to get up–only you don’t get up. You let yourself remember just one little thing and before you know it you no longer want to get up –I do that all the time. I get really mad at myself and tell myself that NEXT TIME I’m going to get up right when I wake, to avoid letting myself “go there”. So far I haven’t been disciplined enough . .. anyway-hopefully you’re coming back to writing. That will help!

  3. Sorry to hear about your rocky start to the day (understatement, I know), and hope everything is at least a bit better now. I don’t experience anxiety but I do get waves of lethargy and depression now and then, more then these few days. Last week, I spent most of the week lazing around, waiting to complete projects at the last minute, and just, for some reason, couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I’m better this week, but just because I’ve managed to get more coffee in me than usual.

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