I don’t know if you know this about me, but I have zero chill. Well, except for that it’s the opposite. “Chill” in the vernacular sense means “relaxed and cool” but my version of not calm is frozen. Does this mean I am so chill that it’s come back around?

I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, exactly – I know those people, and they freak me out – but I do find myself overthinking things to the point of nervous breakdown. Left to my own devices, I’ll dig myself a hole and fill it full of alternate realities. My stomach churns. My heart feels compressed. My vision starts getting dark at the edges. I need to breathe. I can still smile and participate. You’d never know that inside my head, I’m a freezer-burned Hungry Man meal, two years past expiration. It’s a shame, really. I love Salisbury steak day.

I’d like to say that I’m learning something, but aside from being unable to pull a full breath, the biggest lesson so far is that I’m scared, I’m uncomfortable, and I’m not really built for temporary. I need trust, and I need to be trusted. I need to know things. I don’t like blind spots or dark corners. I don’t care if there are sharp edges, or spiders, or clowns. I just need to know about them.


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