Some people don’t trust

the IRS


their next door neighbor


their significant other.

I don’t trust

my body.

I wait in earnest, each day, for it to fail me.

Holding my breathe in anticipation,

a flicker of pain,

a persistent twitch,

an unwelcome jolt of Something Is Wrong

I notice. 

Each. and Every. One.

Waking in the morning

pleasantly surprised  I’ve made it through the night.

Going to bed each night

apprehensive I may not make it till morning.

My heart pounds as I ride another wave of fear, trying to fold myself into it’s rising crest, knowing that if I struggle and fight back, the odds of drowning are greater.

I cannot

will not

let you see

my misery

So I stand upright, laugh at your jokes, make solid eye contact

while the world blurs and I wonder if 911 would get here in time

in case $%*! hit the fan.

And then, an almost euphoric calmness; the wave collapses over me and I am an exhausted mess.

Thrilled to have made it out alive again.

Terrified of the next time.

A world that continues to shrink

while I watch from behind the glass

of a car I cannot drive past 60

Indebted to a

patient husband

running out of excuses

for my

ignorant kids

daydreaming about

flights and late nights

wrapped in freedom

instead of fear

tired of



cancelled plans


anxiety means


I’m screwed.



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2 Replies to “Screwed.”

  1. FAB



    I clung to every word and for a very brief moment felt no anxiety or worry or stress or pain only yours.

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